


Aegon's Academy

by mygiantoflannister



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boarding School, F/M, High School, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 81
Words: 50,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mygiantoflannister/pseuds/mygiantoflannister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The characters from A Song of Ice and Fire at a New England boarding school.  What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these brilliant characters, that would be George R. R. Martin.
> 
> This is my first ASOIAF fic so my apologies if anyone is OOC.  
> Most of the characters are aged up/down to be in high school.  
> I will take prompts if anyone has any ideas!

            Sansa Stark’s heart gave a happy flutter when she checked her email one morning in late August and saw that she had one email from her high school, Aegon’s Academy.

            _“I bet it’s the room assignments!”_ she thought happily, _“I hope Jeyne and I can live in Riverrun dorm this year, instead of nasty cold Winterfell!”_

            Sansa clicked the email, and began to read, stopping after seeing that she would be living in Riverrun dorm. She picked up her phone to call Jeyne and tell her the good news, when something at the bottom of the email caught her eye.  The email declared, in plain letters:

            Roommate assignment: Margaery Tyrell 

            “Seven Hells!” Sansa cursed aloud, “I can’t room with _Margaery_! Not after what happened with Joffrey last year…”


	2. Robb

            Elsewhere in the Stark household, Robb was not pleased.  “Hey Jon!” he called across the bedroom that he shared with his half-brother, “Did you get your room assignment for next year?”

            “Yeah, I’m with Sam again, why?” he yawned.

            “Well I was supposed to room with just Theon but they put us in a triple with freaking Sandor Clegane! Bad enough that he isn’t really in our friend group, but he’s Joffrey Baratheon’s bitch, too.  If that prick tries to set foot in our room after what happened with Sansa last year I swear to god I’ll…I’ll…”

            “Kill him? The headmaster’s son?” Jon suggested sarcastically.

            “Well, no. Mr. Baratheon  _is_  Dad’s best friend, but he never seems to thrilled about having Joffrey as a son.  Maybe I’ll just…beat him up a little,” Robb finished.

            “Yes, and then you’ll be dragged down to Martell’s office and have to explain what happened. And then they’ll bring in Dad and Mr. Baratheon and you can explain to them, too.  They’ll probably even make you call Mo—Catelyn.”

            “Come on, Jon. You know you’d love to get at Joffrey, too.  And I bet Martell would understand.  Dad said he used to be wild when they went to Aegon’s—his nickname was The Red Viper or something.”

            “He’s still the Dean of Students, Robb.  And who knows, maybe you and Clegane and Theon will become besties and braid each others hair and have pillow fights every night,” Jon finished in a mocking falsetto.

            Robb rolled his eyes, and got out of bed to go find Theon.


	3. Daenerys

            “Viserys, _please_ ,” Dany begged her brother, “don’t make me go to that school.”

            “Dany, it’s not an option,” her brother said sharply, “Our family _founded_ Aegon’s Academy, and it’s high time the Targaryens got themselves back in the system, if I’m going to be headmaster someday.  If Dad were here, he’d be furious that you’re going to be a junior and you’ve been at public school for the past two years.”

            “But Dad’s _not_ here, Viserys, and Robert Baratheon is the headmaster now!”

            “Oh please, that drunk fool won’t last very long.  And you’re going to Aegon’s, Daenerys.  I went, just like every Targaryen since Aegon himself.  Who knows?  Maybe you’ll even like it.”


	4. Tyrion

            Tyrion Lannister was not having a good year.  Actually, his year had started off well.  He loved his job teaching History and Latin at Aegon’s Academy, he loved being a dorm parent in Dragonstone dorm with the rowdy upperclassmen boys, and he especially loved his girlfriend, Shae, the French teacher. 

            Everything had been near perfect for once in Tyrion’s life—until about May.  In May, Shae had accepted a job teaching French in California. _“All the way across the god damn country,”_ Tyrion thought bitterly. And she didn’t mention it to him until the last week of school.  _“But hey, at least we’ll have the summer together, right?”_   Wrong.

            Tyrion had planned on proposing to Shae at the end of the school year, but decided to wait until July, figuring Shae wouldn’t leave for California until August. Wrong.  Wrong, wrong, _wrong_. Shae had packed up and left Connecticut by the end of June, and refused Tyrion’s offer of a long-distance relationship.

            “She’s gone,” he told his brother Jaime one night when they were out drinking, “And probably never coming back.”

            “Oh, come _on_ , little brother,” Jaime clapped Tyrion on the back, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of hot new teachers this year…and maybe even students,” Jaime finished with a sly grin.

            “Jaime, honestly, I don’t care how hot the students are, or what kind of perverted sexual fantasies you have about them—you know I would never jeopardize my job like that!”

            “Whatever you say, Tyrion, whatever you say.”


	5. Arya

            Arya leaned over and smacked a guffawing Hot Pie on the shoulder while Lommy giggled and Gendry blushed at Hot Pie’s comment about Arya’s relationship with Gendry.

            “You’re such a douche, Hot Pie!” she yelled, before dissolving into laughter herself.

            It was the day before the first day of her sophomore year, and already Arya had ditched her family and snuck into Eyrie dorm in search of her friends.  She found them sitting on the floor of Lommy and Hot Pie’s room, surrounded by half-unpacked suitcases, already playing video games on Lommy’s illegal X-Box.

            “Hey, who’s your guys’ roommates this year?” Lommy asked.

            “Shireen Baratheon,” Arya answered.

            “Come on, Arya, couldn’t you at least pick a hot roommate?” Hot Pie whined.

            “Oh please, like any girl would want you with that attitude,” Arya countered.

            “And besides, Shireen is kinda cute,” Lommy said quietly.

            “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that because I am not letting any of you near Shireen, understand?  I will kill for that girl!” Arya grinned, “Who’re you rooming with, Gendry?" 

            “Joffrey motherfucking Baratheon,” Gendry frowned.

            Arya’s eyes widened.  “Ugh I hate that guy!  No way my boyfriend is living with that douchecanoe—not after what happened with Sansa last year.  Hey!  Maybe you can kill him in his sleep!”

            “Arya, he’s the headmaster’s son.”

            “So?”

 


	6. Sandor

Sandor Clegane wasn’t thrilled when he found out he’d be living with Robb Stark and his adopted brother Theon Greyjoy, but he figured that these preppy assholes would be a nice change from Joffrey and Meryn Trant and those preppy assholes.  Plus, Stark’s sister was hot, and she didn’t treat him like shit. “She can’t look you in the eyes, though,” a voice inside of him said, “but then again, who can?”

 _“No, Sandor,”_ he berated himself, _“she’s off-limits. She’s your roommate’s sister and before that she was with—she was Joffrey’s.”_

Robb and Theon were pointedly polite with Sandor on the first day back, letting him have the single bed while they took the bunk beds.  Ned Stark’s children were never anything but polite.

“I’ve always wanted top bunk, anyways,” Robb grinned his easy grin, his eyes meeting Sandor’s, “We got lucky with this room, huh, Sandor?”

“Yeah, it’s huge. We could probably even unbunk the beds if we wanted,” it made Sandor uncomfortable when people were nice to him.

“Sucks that the Imp’s apartment is right next to ours, though,” Theon grumbled, “It’ll be hard to sneak girls in here.”

“It’s only Tyrion—he’s pretty chill. And you know that there are ways to have girls in here that _aren’t_ against the rules, right?” Robb asked, while Theon rolled his eyes, muttering something about the “damn rules.”

“He’ll probably be too busy screwing that hot French teacher to notice us, anyways,” Sandor said aloud.

Robb and Theon looked up at their roommate in surprise, eyes wide, before breaking out into loud guffaws.

“Dude you are so _right_!” Theon said, gasping for air, “The Imp is hornier than any of us!”

Sandor allowed himself a small smile, twisting the scars on his face. 

_“Maybe these preppy assholes aren’t so bad after all.”_


	7. Sansa

“Sansa!” Margaery exclaimed when her roommate entered their room, “It’s so good to see you!  I’m just so excited to get to know you better! Is that skirt Lilly Pulitzer? I saw it at the store last week and fell in love with the pattern but of course they were out of my size—maybe I could borrow it sometime?”

Sansa stood silently in the doorway, tightly gripping her fuchsia suitcase, before she realized she was gaping. _“A lady doesn’t gape,”_ she scolded herself, _“especially not at Margaery Tyrell.”_    She plastered a smile on her face. 

“Of course—if I can borrow that dress! Brandy Melville?”

“You know it!”

The girls chattered pleasantly as they unpacked, discussing teachers, students, and a myriad of other things. Sansa was surprised by how _nice_ Margaery actually was—she was as easy to talk to as Jeyne—and she wondered if it was just an act. She desperately wished it wasn’t.

“I heard that one of the Targaryens is in our grade this year,” Margaery said, “Dany, I think she goes by—she’s the youngest one.”

“Wow,” Sansa replied, “I wonder why she wasn’t in our grade all along?”

“I heard she’s been at some public school the past two years—but she’s travelled all over Europe with her older brother. I also heard that her ex was the head of a motorcycle gang—but that’s probably just a rumor.”

“How do you know all this?” Sansa asked incredulously.

“I have my sources,” her smile seemed to say ‘and you’ll never know them,’ “plus, it helps to be dating the headmaster’s son.”

Sansa’s smile vanished, and Margaery immediately realized her mistake.

“Oh, Sansa, I’m sorry, I didn’t think—” for once Margaery Tyrell seemed flustered.

“It’s fine, Margaery, honest. You just caught me off guard, is all.”

Margaery placed a hand on Sansa’s shoulder, “Don’t you worry about him; I’ll keep him in line—I promise.”

“Thank you, Margaery,” Sansa paused, “I think I’m gonna go find Jeyne—wanna come with?”

“I think I’ll stay here and finish unpacking—see you at dinner, yeah?”

“Of course!” Sansa replied amiably, grabbing her phone and heading out the door.

Sansa quickly texted Jeyne, asking for her room number.  She was surprised to find out that Jeyne’s room was only a few doors away, at the end of the hallway on the second floor of Riverrun dorm.  The door to the room was slightly ajar when Sansa arrived, so she entered without knocking.

Jeyne was nowhere to be found—instead Sansa only saw a petite girl who must’ve been Jeyne’s roommate. A ray of sunlight filtered through the window and landed on the girl, giving her an ethereal appearance. Her elaborately braided hair was so blonde it looked almost silver, and her eyes were violet.  _“She_ must _be wearing contacts,”_ Sansa thought. She was wearing a floral maxi dress that somehow looked flawless on her small frame, and a snake armband wrapped around her pale arm.  The girl was beautiful—there was no denying.  _“She’d be so much prettier if she wasn’t frowning like that.”_

The girl suddenly noticed Sansa. “Oh!” she exclaimed softly, eyes softening, “Are you looking for Jeyne?  She just went to the bathroom."

“Oh, yeah, I was. Nice to meet you, I’m Sansa Stark,” she stuck out her hand.

“Daenerys Targaryen—it’s a pleasure to meet you.  Call me Dany,” Daenerys answered, shaking Sansa’s hand.

Sansa tried not to show signs of surprise at meeting the “famous” Targaryen girl.  “So you’re Jeyne’s roommate?” she said quickly.

“No, I’m just unpacking my stuff in a random room,” she said, her sarcasm providing a strange contrast to her mild voice.

Sansa giggled, “Stupid question—sorry." 

Dany smiled for the first time, “So you must b—”

She was interrupted by Jeyne Poole’s return from the bathroom.  “Sansa!” she squealed, spotting her best friend.  Sansa and Jeyne hugged, and Jeyne began talking a mile a minute.

“I saw your hot brother—is he even your brother?—Theon on the way in and he said ‘Hi, Jeyne’ and ugh I almost melted right then and there “Hi, Jeyne” can you believe it? He knows my name, Sansa, my name!”

“Impressive,” Sansa said slyly, shaking her head slightly at Jeyne’s antics.

“If you guys want some privacy, I can go and—” Dany began.

“No!  Stay!” Sansa exclaimed.  She wanted to get to know this mysterious new girl.  “Then we can all go to dinner together later.”

“And besides—you need someone to fill you in on all the gossip!” Jeyne added.

“Okay,” Dany smiled again, “I have two years of stuff to catch up on, but I’m a fast learner, don’t worry.”

The girls giggled, and once they began talking, the time passed quickly.  Daenerys began to open up, but she refrained from mentioning anything but the barest details about her past or her family, which Sansa thought odd.

 _“If I was a Targaryen, no way would I ever shut up about it!”_ she thought.

A little after six, the girls left the dorm and crossed the quad to the school’s main building, the Red Keep, which housed the classrooms and dining halls.  They met up with Margaery, filled their plates with food, and headed into one of the dining halls.

“We’re upperclassmen now—we can finally sit in Storm’s End!” Jeyne said happily as they filed into the dining hall and sat down in an empty booth.

Storm’s End had long ago been taken over by upperclassmen.  It was the smallest of the Red Keep’s three dining halls, but it was the only one with ornate wooden booths in addition to large round tables.  Booths lined three of the walls, and the fourth wall was occupied by a huge window that overlooked the pond, nicknamed the Blackwater by students in response to the bracken, polluted quality of the water.

The girls laughed and gossiped while they ate, and Sansa was happier than she ever thought she’d be. _“Margaery really isn’t so bad,”_ she thought, _“and Dany is so worldly.”_

“Hey you guys, it’s after seven,” Jeyne said, eyeing the giant clock on the wall, “Time for Court.”

“Court?” Dany questioned, a puzzled look on her face.

“Court is when all the students go to Flea Bottom—the student union—and socialize before study hall,” Jeyne explained.

“But why is it called Court?”

“It’s like, like in medieval times when kings and queens would hold their royal courts, you know?” Sansa clarified.

“Oh, okay,” Dany said, following Margaery and Jeyne, who were getting up from the table and clearing their plates.

Sansa, Margaery, Jeyne, and Daenerys began walking to Flea Bottom, talking excitedly.

“Dany, get ready to meet the men of Aegon’s Academy!” Jeyne proclaimed as they entered the student union.

Sansa took a look around the room, and felt her heart sink in her chest.

“Oh seven hells,” she muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you were wondering…  
> Sansa's Skirt:  
> http://images.bloomingdales.com/is/image/BLM/products/6/optimized/1258986_fpx.tif?wid=1200&qlt=90,0&layer=comp&op_sharpen=0&resMode=sharp2&op_usm=0.7,1.0,0.5,0&fmt=jpeg
> 
> Margaery's Dress: http://www.brandymelville.co.uk/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/m/w/mw013-58s07100v106_full_1.jpg
> 
> Daenerys's Dress:  
> http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/a7/6d/c9/a76dc9fd21f26233d95d4f4a529b9d89.jpg


	8. Jaime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so so much for your kind words! I'm so thrilled that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! (and any comments/critiques/advice you have is much appreciated)

He immediately spotted her across the room, sitting at the bar, talking to that idiotic lacrosse coach Hyle Hunt. She laughed at something he said, and tousled her short, blonde hair. 

_“I can’t believe at one point I thought she was a lesbian,”_ Jaime thought, _“What a mistake that was.”_

Tyrion noticed his older brother staring, and interrupted Jaime’s reverie.  “I thought we were here for me, Jaime?” 

“What?  Oh, yeah, right.  Operation: make Tyrion hungover on the first day of class is a go,” Jaime said, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Brienne.

“Good,” Tyrion grinned as they sat down at the end of the bar.

Tyrion and Jaime had been drinking at Maegor’s Holdfast since they had gone to Aegon’s themselves (somehow no one ever questioned Jaime Lannister’s true age), and it had since become a popular spot for the faculty of Aegon’s Academy to spend time bitching about students—and other faculty—and drinking themselves into stupors the nights they weren’t on duty in the dorms. 

“That new French teacher is cute, right, Tyrion?” Jaime asked, sipping his beer.

“Well yeah, but she’s Oberyn’s girlfriend,” Tyrion said forlornly.

“There’s always students,” Jaime chuckled.

“Jaime, _no_.”

“Okay, what about the chick that teaches Theology?  She’s got that kinda scary hot thing going on.  I bet she’d be into some kinky stuff.”

“Melisandre Asshai is _so_ not my type and you know it.”

“I thought your type was anything that breathes?” Jaime raised an eyebrow.

“And I thought yours was blondes?” Tyrion retorted, “Especially when they look just like you?”

Jaime flushed and hoped Tyrion didn’t notice in the dim light of the room.  “I don’t know how to help you, little brother.”

“You can help me by buying the lovely Brienne Tarth a drink.  I haven’t had a good laugh in a while.”

“Tyrion, no, I’m not gonna—” Jaime began.

“’The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’” Tyrion quoted, knocking back the rest of his whiskey.

“Fine,” Jaime said, playfully irate, “I’ll buy the wench a drink.”

“And me too!” Tyrion called, waving his empty glass as Jaime got up from his seat and headed towards Brienne, “I need a refill!”

Jaime took the seat Hyle Hunt had just vacated.

“Oh, no, he’s coming right b—” Brienne began, before noticing who had taken Hyle’s seat.  “Jaime Lannister,” she said dryly, “What a lovely surprise.”

“Great to see you, too, Brienne Tarth. How was your summer?” Jaime said smoothly.

“Fine.  And yours?”

“Excellent.  Can I buy you a drink?”

Brienne looked at Jaime with a pointed expression on her face.  “Tyrion put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Well…” Jaime faltered, “It wasn’t so much putting me up to it as—”

“Goodbye, Kingslayer,” she grinned wickedly, waving him away.

“See you on the fields, wench,” he muttered, vacating his seat.

_“Kingslayer,”_ he thought, _“Gods, I hate that nickname. You accidentally paralyze one kid at one football game one time, and suddenly you’re this vicious madman.”_

The nickname had been following Jaime around since his sophomore year of high school.  The Aegon’s Academy Dragons had been playing their rivals, the King’s Landing Kings in the finals, and Jaime had tackled one of the Kings. He landed wrong, and the kid ended up paralyzed.  It wasn’t Jaime’s fault, not really, but the nickname Kingslayer had stuck.

“No luck?” Tyrion asked, already on his third glass of whiskey.

“You have no idea,” Jaime replied.

The brothers stayed at the bar until a little before eight, when they returned back to Aegon’s Academy before study hall began.  By this point, Tyrion was totally gone, and Jaime was near-dragging him across the campus to Dragonstone dorm.

_“For such a little guy, he sure is heavy,”_ Jaime thought, struggling to cross the quad with Tyrion in tow.

As they were about to climb the steps of the dorm, a group of girls passed by, headed towards Riverrun.

“Wait wait wait,” Tyrion slurred, “Who in the—in seven hells izzat?”  He pointed to one of the girls, who was dashing up the steps to Riverrun dorm, long platinum hair flying behind her.  “Cuz I dunno bout you big brother,” Tyrion jabbed a finger at Jaime, his short stature allowing him to reach mid-chest, “but I would SO tap that.”

Jaime sighed and dragged Tyrion inside. _“So much for not fantasizing about hot students.”_


	9. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's kind words! Feel free to leave suggestions in the comments!

Standing close to Sansa, Daenerys surveyed the goings on inside Flea Bottom. Teenagers were packed into the student union, playing pool or table tennis, lounging on the couches watching television, purchasing food, flirting, gossiping, and generally socializing.  Dany noticed the approving looks her group got from boys and girls alike when they entered, and she began to wonder just whom she had befriended.

“Oh seven hells,” she heard Sansa mutter.

“What’s wrong?” Dany quietly asked her new friend.

“ _Him_ ,” Sansa said, gesturing ahead of her.

As Daenerys looked up, she heard one of her companion’s squeal of delight: “Joffrey!” Margaery exclaimed, throwing her arms around a generically attractive blond boy who was surrounded by a group of goonish boys.  _“He’s cute, but way too pretty for my liking,”_ Dany thought.  Turning to Sansa for an explanation, she was surprised when she realized that Sansa and Jeyne had flitted away towards a group of guys surrounding the pool table in the opposite corner of the room.  She attempted to join them, but Margaery grabbed her arm.

“Dany!  This is my boyfriend, Joffrey Baratheon,” she said perkily, “and Joffrey, this is Daenerys Targaryen.”

“I know who she is,” the boy replied sourly, giving Dany’s hand a cursory shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Dany said softly, wondering what Margaery saw in this boy beyond the prestige associated with his last name, “If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna go play pool with Sansa and Jeyne.”

“Have fun!” Margaery said. 

“Good,” Joffrey began, “because I had Trant keep people out of the laundry room so we can hook up.  Come on, Margaery,” he began leading his girlfriend out Flea Bottom into the hall.

“So what’s the deal with that Joffrey guy,” Dany asked once she’d rejoined Sansa.

Sansa opened her mouth to reply, but was beaten to it by a tall, auburn-haired boy with bright blue eyes, who looked remarkably like Sansa.  “Joffrey Baratheon is a spoiled little brat who thinks he can just—”

“Robb, chill,” said one of his companions, an equally tall boy with dark brown curls and grey eyes, “But yeah,” he continued, grinning at Daenerys, “he’s a total asshole.”

“I figured.  He basically just introduced himself to me and then dragged poor Margaery away to go hook up in the laundry room!  Is that how you people get off at this place?  In laundry rooms?”

“It’s prep school,” said a third boy, “the rules are strict and the options are limited—but I’d be happy to give you a tour of the laundry room, if you want,” he winked at her.

“Ugh, Theon, you’re such a pig!” Sansa chuckled.  Turning to Daenerys, she said, “I see you’ve met my brothers.”

“So you’re Sansa’s famous brothers,” Dany smirked, “Let me guess, Robb?” she gestured to the redhead, who nodded, “Jon?” the second boy gave a thumbs up, “And Theon, of course,” he winked again.

“And who’re you?” Jon asked.

“Daenerys Targaryen.  Call me Dany,” she shook each of their hands.

“Ah, so I see the prodigal Targaryen has returned to claim her birthright,” Robb teased.

“Why of course,” Dany quipped, “And already I’ve befriended the enemy—you crazy Starks, living up there in the Middle of Nowhere, Maine.”

“Let’s be real,” Jeyne chimed in, “Her real enemy is the Baratheons—stealing her birthright and all.”

The group laughed, and Dany noticed that Jeyne seemed to positively glow when Theon joined in.  _“Sansa and I need to make that happen,”_ she made a mental note to ask Sansa about it later.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, full of pool, ball-busting, and the Starks.  _“If only Viserys could see me now,”_ Daenerys thought, grinning wider than ever.


	10. Tyrion

Tyrion woke up the morning of the first day of classes with his head pounding, immediately regretting the time he’d spent with Jaime the night before.  He didn’t remember much about the night, but his dreams had been overrun by visions of an angel with silver hair that roamed the earth.  He wondered briefly who the girl was, before pulling himself out of bed and getting ready for the day.

 _“Not too bad today,”_ he thought as he brushed his teeth, staring unhappily at himself in the mirror, at his bloodshot, mismatched eyes and his shaggy golden hair, _“I’ve got AP US first period, a free block, Latin I, Lunch followed by another free block, AP Euro, and Latin II.  Easy.”_

At breakfast, Tyrion made himself a large cup of black coffee and sat miserably at one of the tables closest to the door, where the faculty always sat, and suddenly everything became real. Shae was gone. He was alone, and ugly, and unloved, and hungover.

 _“Well, that’s not all true,”_ he reminded himself, _“Jaime loves me, at least.  Maybe even some of my advisees.”_

Some of the other teachers trickled in. Jaime plopped down next to his brother with a heaping plate of food, complemented Tyrion on his impressive hangover, and immediately began bickering with Brienne. 

Stannis Baratheon and Melisandre Asshai entered together, and Tyrion was surprised by how flirty the straitlaced, Physics-teaching Stannis was acting around her.  _“She does seem like she’d be into some kinky shit,”_ he smirked, recalling his discussion with Jaime the previous night.

Tyrion made polite conversation with the assistant headmaster, Ned Stark, before heading to his classroom few minutes before the first bell.  United States history was Tyrion’s favorite class, and the students on the class roster seemed like a promising bunch.

His students began arriving soon after first bell.  Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell ran in as the bell was ringing, and flashed him apologetic smiles. He waved them to their seats and turned to face the class.

“Welcome to AP US history,” he began, “My goal for this year is to expand your knowledge of the history of our country, and hopefully have some fun.  I know most of you are here because APUSH looks good on your college applications, but I’ll be able to separate the scholars from the students soon enough. I have five rules. Memorize them. One: No whining. Two: Participate in class, but don’t be that asshole that takes over the entire discussion.  Three: Do your fucking homework.  Four: Respect everyone’s opinion, unless that opinion is truly asinine.  And five: Don’t ever bullshit.  Don’t bullshit in your speech, don’t bullshit in your writing, and especially don’t bullshit to me. It will get you nowhere. Everyone got that?”

The class nodded as they scribbled down his rules.

“Okay, great.  Don’t worry people—I’m not a total hardass. If you guys work with me, this year will be fun.  Maybe you’ll even earn yourselves a Week o’ Fun.  ‘Mr. Lannister, what’s a Week o’ Fun?’” he said in a high-pitched voice, “Great question. If you all manage to get a perfect score on a test or quiz—and I mean every single one of you needs to get a one hundred percent or higher—you get a Week o’ Fun, which can be whatever you want. We can cancel class for the week, we can watch movies, we can have a sleep-in every Monday for a few weeks in a row—anything.”

“Have you ever had a Week o’ Fun before?” asked Margaery Tyrell.

“Once.  And that was with an AP Latin class three years ago, with only four kids in it,” he smirked, “There are twelve of you, so good luck.”

The class groaned in frustration. “But that’s impossible,” one of the Frey’s whined.

“I’m sorry—what was rule number one again?”

“No whining,” the boy said sullenly.

“Right.  Keep that in mind.  Now, go around the room and introduce yourselves.  Say where you’re from and your favorite president.  I’ll start.  I’m Tyrion Lannister--which hopefully you already know—I’m from Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and my favorite president is George Washington.”

“I’m Walder Frey, I’m from Concord, New Hampshire, and my favorite president is Bill Clinton,” said the boy who’d whined earlier.  Tyrion struggled to hide his grin when he saw several of his students roll their eyes in frustration.

The rest of the class introduced themselves—the majority of them were from New York City or Connecticut, and the overwhelming favorite president was FDR, which Tyrion couldn’t wait to fuck with later in the year—until the last four students remained.

“I’m Joffrey Baratheon—but you all know that—I’m from Boston, Massachusetts, and my favorite president was JFK,” Tyrion tried his best not to grimace.  His dear nephew was quite the charmer.

“I’m Sandor Clegane, I’m from Boston, Massachusetts, and my favorite president is Dwight Eisenhower,” said the younger Clegane boy.  Tyrion wondered briefly if Sandor was anything like that wretched older brother of his. The boy’s taste in presidents led Tyrion to think otherwise.

“I’m Margaery Tyrell, I’m from Greenwich, Connecticut, and my favorite president is George W. Bush,” she surveyed her classmates as if daring them to attempt mocking her, and Tyrion could only smile.  _“Her honesty is admirable, I’ll give her that.”_

Sansa was last. “I’m Sansa Stark, I’m from Bangor, Maine, and my favorite president is Ronald Reagan,” she said confidently, smiling. _“I knew she was my favorite advisee for a reason.”_

“Okay, now that we know each other, let’s get to work.  Everyone take out your books, and open to page five.  What can you tell me about pre-Columbian societies in North America?”

After AP US, the day seemed to fly by. Tyrion’s various classes had seemed promising so far, and all that was left was Latin II.  He stood at the board, writing out a few notes, as his students filed into the room.  The second bell rang. Tyrion’s heart seemed to stop for a second when he turned to face his class, and saw that directly across from him sat the silver-haired girl from his dreams.  _“No fucking way. She’s even more beautiful in person,”_ he thought, stunned, _“No, Tyrion, get a grip.  You’re lonely because of Shae, and she’s your_ student _.”_

He gave the class his opening monologue, and then asked them to introduce themselves, giving where they were from and why they were taking Latin.  The students gave generic, predictable answers about higher SAT scores and Latin being the root of all Romance Languages, but not the silver-haired girl.

“Hi, I’m Daenerys Targaryen,” everyone suddenly eyed her incredulously (Tyrion included), “I was born in Provincetown, I think, but I’ve lived all over—most recently in Europe, and I’m taking Latin because I already know Spanish and French, and Chinese seemed like suicide.” She smirked beautifully at Tyrion, challenging him to make a comment, but he refrained.

_“Figures she’s a Targaryen. Targaryens are beautiful, and perfect, and she’s both.”_

On Thursday Tyrion was sitting in his office, checking his emails, when his favorite advisee knocked quickly on the side of the open door, and entered before he could respond, dumping her bag on the floor and plopping down in one of the squashy armchairs in front of the desk.

Tyrion laughed, “Yes, please, Sansa. Come in; sit down.”

“Hi, Tyrion,” she laughed as well.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Mr. Lannister to you, Sansa.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “you know my whole family.  You’ve been to my _house_.”

“Okay, that may be true,” he chuckled, “but you can’t just go around calling me Tyrion!  Bad enough you all call me Imp behind my back.”

“Oh, fine,” she sighed, “whatever you say, Mr. Lannister.  And anyways, I never call you Imp.”

“How’s your first week back been so far?”

“Pretty good, I guess. Ms. Tarth is working us insanely hard in field hockey, but at least I made Varsity this year! My history teacher is a total tool though,” she said casually.

Tyrion laughed in earnest. “Mhm, and how’s your roommate?”

“Margaery’s actually pretty great. She’s way nicer than I expected, and so far it hasn’t been awkward at all with the whole Joffrey thing.”

“That’s great, Sansa. And have you seen my darling nephew at all this year outside of our history class?”

“A few times—we haven’t talked or anything, and I only have the one class with him.  I just try to avoid him as much as possible,” she said, suddenly serious.

“Okay, and don’t worry about history—I’ll keep him in line for you.”

“It’s funny,” she said in a way that suggested it wasn’t really funny at all, “Margaery said the same thing.”

“Then Margaery is a better person than I expected,” he said softly.

“Enough about me,” Sansa said quickly, “How are _you_?”

“I thought I was _your_ advisor, Sansa.”

“Oh please,” she smiled again, “it’s mutual.  But anyways, are you doing okay?  With…with Shae gone and all?”

“Honestly?” she nodded, “No. No, I’m not doing okay at all. I miss her so much. But that’s _my_ problem, Sansa, you have enough on your plate as it is.”

“We’re just gonna have to find you a new girlfriend, that’s all!  What about that hot new French teacher?  Ms. Sand?”

“She’s with Mr. Martell,” Tyrion said automatically.

Sansa’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way!  Oh my god—what a cute couple!”

“Oh, crap,” Tyrion smacked his forehead, “I don’t know if that’s common knowledge or not.”

“It is now!” Sansa said enthusiastically.

“And I wonder how you students seem to know everything.”

“Sansa?” said a voice at the door, “I thought I heard you.”

Standing in the doorframe was the Targaryen girl, looking beautiful, as usual.

“Hey, Dany!  Come in, come in” Sansa greeted her friend, and gestured towards the empty seat next to her.

“Oh, hey Mr. Lannister!” she said pleasantly, sitting down.

“Hello, Daenerys. Welcome to my office,” he smiled.

“So, is this the cool place to hang out?” Daenerys asked.

“Not really,” Sansa giggled, “Tyr—Mr. Lannister is my advisor.”

“If you’re looking for cool, I suggest you try my brother’s office down the hall,” Tyrion said, “It’s always full of those meathead jocks.”

Daenerys laughed. She had a beautiful laugh.

Sansa and Daenerys stayed in Tyrion’s office until they had to leave to get ready for field hockey practice. Daenerys kept them entertained with stories of her travels in Europe, and laughed at all of Tyrion’s witty remarks. When the girls left, Tyrion sat in his chair, staring blankly at the wall, his head once again overrun with thoughts of the silver-haired angel that was Daenerys Targaryen. 

 _“Oh Tyrion,”_ he thought, _“You are so screwed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my history and Latin teachers for inspiring some of Tyrion's teaching methods


	11. Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, Brienne's POV!  
> (I crave your feedback, so feel free to say whatever you want about this whole thing!)  
> If you're wondering what Aegon's Academy (sort of) looks like:  
> http://www.usbpcllc.com/images/t.jpg

"Alright ladies, our scrimmage against Oldtown is next Wednesday," Brienne called across the field to her field hockey team, "so finish up your stretches and—" she noticed that the girls' attention seemed to be elsewhere.

"Guys, it's almost 3:47!" Jeyne Poole said excitedly.

Sure enough, at exactly 3:47 the football team ran by the field—mostly shirtless—whistling and catcalling at the girls as they passed, led by none other than head coach Jaime Lannister—also shirtless.

 _"What an ass,"_ Brienne thought, _"it's not_ that _hot out."_

This phenomenon had occurred every day at precisely 3:47 everyday for the past week, and Brienne knew by now that any attempt to draw the girls' attention back to field hockey before the football team was entirely out of their line of vision would be in vain.

She had to admit that it wasn't such an unpleasant sight. _"I suppose Renly Baratheon isn't totally unattractive,"_ she thought, staring at Jaime's bare chest, which was glistening with sweat. _"Gods, Brienne, get a grip!"_

By 3:51 the boys were gone, and field hockey practice resumed, as usual. The girls ran shuttles, played 3v2s, mock scrimmages, and practiced a myriad of other drills until well into thes afternoon, when they barely had enough energy to walk down the hill to the Red Keep for dinner. Brienne knew the girls hated her for it, but the group had major potential to be great, and she knew they'd thank her for it later, in some way or another. Arya Stark, the team's small but scrappy goalie, was particularly gifted, and every day Brienne—who had been a goalie herself—devised new drills to test Arya's skills.

The only team that practiced as long and as hard as varsity field hockey was Jaime's football team. Brienne knew that when Jaime had been at Aegon's, the team went undefeated for three years straight, but had lost it's prestige after he graduated. When Jaime started working at Aegon's after college, the team won New England's, and was playing better than ever. Somehow, Jaime always seemed to let his team out right before Brienne, so by the time the boys were walking past the field hockey field, the girls were able to walk down the hill with them.

Brienne watched the girls flirt, despite being covered in sweat and the occasional smattering of mud. Joffrey Baratheon had his arm around Margaery Tyrell's waist, his hand drifting closer and closer to her butt with each step. Arya was walking with Gendry Waters, and she playfully punched his shoulder after he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Both Jeyne Poole and Jeyne Westerling were talking to Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy, while Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane trailed behind them, bickering about what Brienne thought was a heated Giants versus Patriots discussion.

"Spying on the students, I see," Jaime interrupted Brienne's reverie, and she groaned inwardly.

"I'm just walking," she retorted defensively, "and they're all in front of me so I can't help but watch their...interactions."

Jaime chuckled, "Nothing like some field hockey players to get a horny teenage boy excited."

Brienne rolled her eyes.

"Field hockey players are the hottest of the hot. Although," he continued, "didn't you play?"

"I did, yes," she said through gritted teeth, "I was the goalie."

"Well that explains it, then," Jaime grinned at her, and she hated herself for thinking about how attractive he was, with his golden hair and piercing green eyes.

"Any other insults you'd like to try out, Kingslayer?" Brienne asked, pulling open the doors to the Red Keep nearest the dining halls.

"Not today, wench," he followed her into the dinner line, "Although—"

"What," she snapped.

"Well with that tone, I don't think I want to tell you anymore," he said smugly.

"Alright, fine," she scooped mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"But I'll tell you anyways."

Brienne groaned.

"Would you, Brienne Tarth, like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"I'm on duty," she replied automatically, immediately assuming this was one of Jaime and Tyrion's pranks, and cursing internally when she felt herself blushing.

"No you're not. I checked."

"Well, I already have plans."

"To do what? Pretend not to hear the girls in the dorm puking into the toilet after the dance? Or talking about who hooked up with whom in the basement laundry room or at the vending machines?"

"Actually," Brienne said slowly, "I have a date."

"Oh. Really? With whom?"

"Hyle Hunt."

"Not that moron!" Jaime gasped, taking a seat next to Brienne.

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Kingslayer, and please just leave me alone." Jaime departed, then, switching to Tyrion's table and looking utterly dejected. He didn't start laughing with his brother, the way Brienne assumed he would, and she couldn't help but wonder if his offer was genuine.

 _"And so what if it was?"_ she asked herself, _"he's Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. A complete and total ass."_

 _"But you_ like _him,"_ said the voice inside of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a dance coming up...is shit gonna go down?  
> Probably.


	12. Jon

Ygritte had been a new student at Aegon's Academy Jon's sophomore year. He'd seen her around campus, and he and his friends all agreed that she was one of the hottest girls in their grade, but he'd never shared a class with her and if his experience with the other redheaded women in his life—and Robb—had taught him anything, it was that gingers were unpredictable and quite possibly insane. Plus, she was Canadian.

At the end of sophomore year, Jon was at the Hawaiian Dance with Sam, Grenn, and Pyp, miserably failing at dancing as only white boys can, when Ygritte approached them.

"Oh, Jon Snow," she began, and he was pleasantly surprised that she even knew his name, "you know nothing about dancing."

Without warning, she grabbed Jon by the wrist and dragged him away from his friends. Ygritte tried teaching Jon how to dance, but soon grew bored with that, so instead she pulled him off the dance floor and into the hallway to take a walk.

Somehow, their walk led to an unlocked music practice room, and Jon spent the rest of the night—until 11:30 sign in, that is—making out with Ygritte on top of a piano.

 _"You haven't even had a real conversation with her yet!"_ He thought, before remembering that this was his first real hookup. Sure, Jon knew he was attractive and girls would often flirt with him, but no one ever seemed interested in him beyond his admittedly perfect hair and pretty face. Ygritte was different. She didn't seem to care _who_ he was.

Jon walked her back to her dorm the way everyone else always did before it was time for sign in, and at the door to Riverrun she kissed him again.

They broke apart, and she laughed. "You still know nothing, Jon Snow."

Blushing madly, Jon nearly ran back to Dragonstone, where he was greeted by Robb, Theon, Sam, Grenn, and Pyp, and their nods of approval and raucous words of encouragement.

Jon and Ygritte had been inseperable ever since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is really short, and I'm not even sure I really like how it turned out, but I wanted to have a Jon chapter before I started going into some of the other storylines I have planned. Feel free to comment any and all opinions you have, or leave suggestions!


	13. Sansa

"Okay, but why is this dance such a big deal?" Daenerys was sprawled across her bed on her stomach, propping her face up with her hands.

Sansa was perched on Jeyne's bed, and Jeyne was busy rooting through her closet.

"Like, I just had class—on a Saturday morning, no less!—followed by two hours of grueling field hockey practice. What if I just want to sleep tonight?"

"You are not sleeping tonight," Jeyne said, her head half in the closet.

"Dany, you have to go," Sansa began, "it's Dress to Impress, the first dance of the year, the first weekend of school. Yeah, it sucks that we have Saturday classes, but Saturday nights are a chance to go crazy! So we are gonna go to this dance tonight and have fun. Just us girls. No boys!"

Jeyne abruptly pulled her head out of the closet. "What?! You can't say 'no boys' on a Saturday night!"

"No, I think Sansa's right," Dany agreed, "It'll be nice to have a girl's night."

"Ugh. You guys suck," Jeyne moaned, emerging from the closet clutching a sparkly blue crop top.

At dinner, Jeyne, Dany, and Sansa sat with their usual group, which included Robb, Theon, Jon, Sam, Ygritte, Ygritte's roommate Arianne Martell, Jeyne Westerling, and occasionally Arya and Gendry. Tonight, everyone was crammed into a booth in Storm's End.

Sansa spotted Margaery across the room, at a round table with Joffrey and his pack of goons: Arys Oakheart, Boros Blount, Meryn Trant, and Sandor Clegane.

Margaery caught Sansa's eye, and rolled her eyes once Joffrey looked away. "Poor Margaery,"Sansa said aloud.

"She doesn't even have anything in common with those guys," Jeyne Westerling agreed.

"Did you know they call themselves the Kingsguard?" Gendry said, and the group replied that they didn't.

"Why?" Sansa asked.

"Because Meryn and those guys sort of protect Joffrey, and Joffrey is practically royalty at this place."

"So they pretty much fancy themselves knights in shining armor?" Ygritte raised an eyebrow in disgust.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"They should call themselves Team Violate if they want a cute nickname," Sansa said, disgusted, "What with the way they treat people and all." She'd spent her fair share of time with the "Kingsguard," and she didn't love them for it.

"Team Violate," Robb said slowly, "I like it!" The rest of the group agreed.

Sansa glanced at Margaery again, and instead caught Sandor Clegane glaring at her. She immediately blushed and looked down. There was something fascinating about Sandor, but frightening at the same time. Sansa liked him well enough—he'd been decent to her throughout the whole Joffrey ordeal last year, and he was fun to argue with in history class. _"He's not even that bad looking with the scars, but he needs to smile more. I've made him smile a few times—I even made him laugh once."_ She was suddenly filled with a strange sense of pride.

Margaery managed to get away from Team Violate when she saw her roommate getting up to leave. She joined them, and everyone went back to their dorms to get ready for the dance.

Getting ready for Dress to Impress was Sansa and Jeyne's favorite ritual. They would pick out the craziest clothing they owned, do their hair and makeup, blast the most ratchet music Pandora had to offer, and dance more half-clothed in their dorm room than they did at the actual dance. _"I'm so glad that now I can make Margaery and Dany a part of this,"_ she thought happily.

When the girls were finally ready, they went out into the hall and knocked on their dorm parent Brienne Tarth's door to ask her to take a picture. Ms. Tarth answered the door in a short black dress and heels.

"Hi girls! You all look great!" she said, clipping on an earring.

"So do you Ms. Tarth!" said Sansa, "Where are you going tonight?"

"I have a date," their coach replied coyly.

"With whom!?" Jeyne asked.

"I can't say!" she laughed.

"Oh come on, Ms. Tarth, don't leave us hanging like that," Sansa said.

"Stannis Baratheon!" guessed Dany.

"Tyrion Lannister!" guessed Jeyne.

"Mr. Baelish!" guessed Margaery.

Ms. Tarth shook her head at each of their guesses, and snapped a picture of the girls in their wild outfits.

"Jaime Lannister!" Sansa said confidently, "It's definitely Jaime!"

Ms. Tarth chuckled. "Nope."

"Oh just tell us!" the girls moaned.

"Fine. I have a date with Mr. Hunt," she admitted.

"He's pretty cute!" Jeyne said, and the other girls gave noises of assent, "And he coaches lacrosse, which everyone knows is a hot guy sport!"

"Go have fun at the dance girls," Ms. Tarth said, chuckling, "Make good decisions."

"If anyone needs to be reminded to make good decisions tonight," Margaery said, walking away from her teacher, "it's you, Ms. Tarth!"

The girls practically flew down the steps of the dorm and across the quad to the Red Keep, where music was blaring from the largest dining hall, which had been cleared for the dance.

In the hallway outside the dining hall, Sansa spotted Mr. Martell, Ms. Sand, and Tyrion, who were all on duty that night. She quickly thanked the gods that her father wasn't one of them, because she'd be mortified if he saw her in her slightly scandalous crop top, spandex shorts, and neon pink fishnet stockings.

"Hi Tyr—Mr. Lannister!" she said pleasantly as the rest of her friends filed into the dining hall.

"Hi Sansa," Tyrion smiled, "Please just go right inside so I don't get weirded out by the fact that you're barely wearing any clothes." He mockingly covered his eyes, and Sansa giggled. "Also, just know that I'll see any and all boys you try to 'go hang out with.' Just a friendly reminder from your advisor, you know, the one who works with your father, the assistant headmaster." He plastered a toothy grin across his face.

"You wouldn't dare!" Sansa gasped.

"I'm just kidding. Gods, if my father knew about all the shit I did back in the day...go have fun!"

Sansa spotted Dany across the room, and went to join her. Margaery was already grinding with Joffrey, and Sansa knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them disappeared into the depths of the basement. Dany grabbed Sansa's hands and they danced playfully—it seemed that Dany had learned a thing or two about dancing in her travels.

Sansa watched as her little sister spotted Gendry and ran over to him, taking him by the hands and pulling him out of the dining hall in the direction of the basement and potentially unlocked classrooms. Sansa couldn't help but roll her eyes, _"They didn't even last fifteen minutes in here."_

"Where's Jeyne?" Sansa yelled to Daenerys over the deafening music.

"I don't know I lost her when I came in!" Dany yelled back.

The girls surveyed the room, and soon found their friend—grinding with Theon on the other side of the room.

"So much for girl's night..." Sansa said, as Dany wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You people have no idea how to dance!" she chuckled.

Sansa and Dany stuck together, dancing with each other and some other friends they found as they moved around the dance floor. Sansa was thinking about how this was way more fun than dances had been with Joffrey last year, when she felt someone roughly grab her by the waist and pull her backwards.

Turning to see who it was, she looked up and made eye contact with Meryn Trant, the worst of Team Violate—not counting Joffrey, of course.

"Get off me!" she said, looking desperately for Daenerys, who had seemingly melted away into the packed room.

"Oh come on, Stark!" he said, once again attempting to grind with her.

"I said leave me alone!" Sansa said angrily, trying not to show signs of how frightened she was.

"Oh okay. You're one of those bitches who likes to play hard to get," he moved one of his hands so that it was cupping her breast.

Sansa tore his hand away from her and wheeled around to face him. "I said, leave. Me. Alone, Meryn!"

But instead of leaving her alone, he grabbed her ass and drew her towards him. He smelled like sweat and alcohol and cigarettes. Sansa thought she might vomit. She tried to punch him, but he grabbed her hand. His huge meaty paw wrapped around her small fist

"So you wanna play rough? I can play rough," he leaned down and aimed for her lips, but she pulled away from him at the last second. He held her against him so she couldn't run.

"Please, Meryn, please let me go!" she pleaded, close to tears now.

"No, see, I don't think so," he said, "because when I see something I want, I get it."

"Not today, Trant," said a voice from behind him.

Sandor Clegane appeared from behind Meryn Trant, pulling him off of Sansa and throwing him onto the ground.

Sandor took Sansa by the arm, and they began walking away from Trant, towards the doors.

"Did he hurt you, little bird?" Sandor practically growled.

"No," her lower lip trembled. She was going to burst into tears, and soon. "But what if he tries to take advantage of me again?"

"I promise you, little bird, I won't let that happen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo who's POV do you want next? Feel free to leave requests and critiques in the comments!


	14. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a couple of you requested Jaime's POV next, but I just wanted to throw in Arya's POV quickly because I haven't written her in a while. Jaime's POV is coming up very soon!

Gendry and Arya had left the dance early enough that the Day Student Lounge was unoccupied when they go there. A fairly small room that had once been used as an English classroom, the Day Student Lounge was full of mismatched chairs, a large, broken table, and a long blue couch that seemed to scream at anyone who entered the room that it was full of sin.  The Day Students of Aegon’s Academy were few, and they had largely abandoned the Day Student Lounge in favor of the dorms, leaving the room open as a popular hookup spot.

Gendry was sitting on the couch, and Arya was sitting on Gendry.  Both of their shirts and Arya’s bra were lying abandoned in a pile on the floor. Gendry reached to take off Arya’s shorts, and managed to ask between kisses, “Do you want to…you know…tonight?”

Arya broke away from Gendry, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. “Gendry Waters, are you asking me if I want to have _sex_ with you tonight?”

Arya could see Gendry’s cheeks flush, even in the dark room.  “Well, um, yeah…but if you don’t want to we can j—”

She cut him off. “I don’t know _what_ kind of a girl you think I am, Gendry Waters—I mean whatever you think is probably right—but no way in seven _hells_ am I letting the first time I have sex be on this nasty ass couch!”

“We could go to the soccer field,” Gendry muttered. 

Arya punched her boyfriend playfully on the shoulder.  “There are _mosquitos_ out there, you moron! And I’m not in the mood to explain to _anyone_ why I only have mosquito bites on one side of my body!” 

“It was worth a shot,” Gendry said morosely.

They resumed kissing.


	15. Jaime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saga continues...

The pain of Brienne's rejection hit Jaime again when he happened to see her meeting up with Hyle for their date. _"Of course she looks fucking gorgeous for that dunderhead,"_ he thought bitterly, resigning himself to spend the night at Maegor's, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and flirty strangers.

But Maegor's was no fun without Tyrion, so Jaime returned to school, and found his brother standing in the corridor in front of the dining halls with Oberyn and Ellaria.

"Hey, big brother," Tyrion greeted him, "fun night out by yourself?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jaime said, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Tyrion followed suit.

"Whenever I'm upset," Ellaria began, approaching the Lannister boys with Oberyn at her heels, "I've found that sex and alcohol work wonders."

"See, Jaime?" Tyrion chuckled, "She's got the right idea!"

"Maegor's was a bust tonight."

Oberyn had remained silent the whole time, and Jaime figured he was probably enjoying watching Jaime suffer. The Martells had hated the Lannisters since the business with Oberyn's sister Elia years ago, and Oberyn seemed to have it out for everyone except Tyrion, who he'd taken a liking to.

"I'll tell you what—" Tyrion began, but was abruptly interrupted.

Daenerys Targaryen had emerged from the dark dining hall. "Hey, Mr. Lannister—"

"Yeah?" Tyrion and Jaime said simultaneously.

"Oh sorry!" she giggled, "I meant Tyrion. Have you seen Sansa anywhere?"


	16. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed for your continued support and encouragement!

"Do you want me to walk you to your dorm, little bird?" Sandor asked Sansa as they were leaving the dining hall.

"No," she said weakly, "I don't really want to be alone right now."

So they turned right, and headed down Main Hall into the rest of the school. Sandor noticed his history teacher eyeing them suspiciously as they passed, but the Imp remained quiet. Sandor could've laughed, then. _"I bet he thinks I'm going to go take advantage of her in some empty classroom."_

As he and Sansa walked further down the hall, he noticed the odd looks the students they passed gave them. Then he realized that Sansa—Sansa fucking _Stark_ —was tightly holding his hand, sniffling like she was trying not to cry. They continued walking until they were in the Humanities Wing, where they walked down the short flight of stairs that led outside. Sandor held open the door for Sansa, and they say down on a bench near the pond. The night was warm for September, but Sansa sat close to Sandor all the same.

She wasn't talking, and he wasn't pushing her. He sat contentedly holding her hand, until she began to cry, softly at first, but then with more force. His back stiffened when she pressed her face against his side. _"What do I do?"_ he thought. Sandor wasn't exactly an expert on girls. _"Although this_ is _the first time a girl isn't crying_ because _of me."_ He smirked darkly.

Sandor decided to wrap his arm around the wounded little bird, and gently began to rub her arm. Her crying seemed to be lessening. She shifted to look at her rescuer, and he quickly pulled his arm away.

"No, it's fine, Sandor," she said softly, wiping her eyes. He placed his arm back around her.

"Are you okay, little bird? You're sure he didn't hurt you?" Sandor asked as tenderly as was possible with his deep, gruff voice.

"No, I'm not really okay," she admitted, "but you saved me before he could hurt me."

"Meryn Trant is a worthless piece of shit," Sandor said.

"Yeah," Sansa managed a giggle, wrapping her arm around Sandor's waist.

Her sudden affection made him wary. Sure, Sansa would always talk to him in history, and she shared his love of the Boston Red Sox, but at the end of the day she was still Sansa Stark, not his little bird. He'd begun calling her little bird when he met her. She was with Joffrey then, and she'd chirp away like some sweet little parlor trick of a pet bird, totally infatuated with her dear Joffrey. She was disillusioned soon enough—Sandor had been telling her the hard truth all along.

He took a good, long look at the girl on the bench next to him. He looked at her lovely, thick, red hair, her pale skin, her long, slender legs, and her ocean blue eyes. He'd never seen sadder eyes than Sansa's before, except maybe his own. It pained him that the Sansa he knew was more often this broken girl than the bubbly one who argued with him about Thomas Jefferson and walked down from the fields with him after practice. Sansa's mascara was streaked across her cheeks, her hair was slightly disheveled, and she had a rip in her sexy fishnet stockings, but Sandor didn't think he'd ever seen anyone more beautiful than the girl sitting next to him.

"So the Sox made the playoffs," he began.

"I know! Can you believe it? I'm so excited this could be like 2007 all over again!" And the Sansa he knew was gone as quick as she's come, replaced by the Sansa that everyone else saw every day.

Sandor sat with Sansa on that bench near the Blackwater talking about sports and history and school until the warning bell rang at 11:25, reminding students across campus that they had five minutes to return to their dorms for sign in. Sandor walked Sansa to Riverrun, acutely aware of the fact that she was still holding his hand and that he would have to face Joffrey and Meryn sooner or later.

At the door to Riverrun, Sansa hugged him—she'd never hugged him before, but he couldn't say he didn't like it.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking up at him.

"It was my pleasure," he muttered as she slipped inside the dorm.

On the walk back to Dragonstone, Sandor realized with a pang that it was the first time Sansa had ever looked him straight in the eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys like this chapter? Was it too OOC? Please let me know, along with any other comments you may have!


	17. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave your questions/comments/critiques below!

"I'm pretty sure she left with Sandor Clegane a whole ago," Mr. Lannister answered Dany's inquiry as to whether or not he'd seen her friend.

"Sansa? Sansa _Stark_? And Sandor Clegane?" Dany asked incredulously, taking a seat on the cool stone floor in between the Lannister brothers.

"Is there another Sansa Stark that I've been unaware of until now?" Tyrion smirked, and Dany playfully nudged his shoulder with hers.

"You know what I meant!" she paused, stretching out her legs, "Well I think I'm just gonna hang out here until she comes back—I don't need anymore sweaty freshmen trying to feel me up."

Jaime laughed aloud, "Oh, those were the days..."

"Excuse me," Oberyn Martell approached Daenerys, "but you're Daenerys Targaryen, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am?"

"I could tell by the hair," he smiled wistfully, "My sister Elia dated your brother for a while when we were in high school."

"Oh, yeah, Viserys mentioned that once, I think! You must be Mr. Martell! Did you know my brother? I wish I could've known him before, before he..." her voice trailed off.

"We all knew your brother, Daenerys," Oberyn said quietly.

"Really? What was he like?"

"Stories for another time, perhaps," Jaime Lannister said as Oberyn was opening his mouth to reply.

"Yeah of course!" She saw Mr. Martell flash Jaime a thankful look, and Daenerys knew better than to pry. From what Viserys had told her, things hadn't ended happily between Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen. "So did you all go to Aegon's at the same time?"

"Yes. The two of them," he gestured towards Jaime and Tyrion, "Cersei Lannister-Baratheon, Robert Baratheon, Ned Stark, Petyr Baelish, and I were all here around the same time as your brother."

"Must've been fun," Dany said, regretting for the millionth time that her brother had died before she got to know him. _"Why did he have to go join the military and get himself killed? Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark all came back alive!"_

"It was..." Tyrion paused, trying to find the right words, "not very different from your time here."

"I suppose so," she agreed.

Dany spent the rest of the night laughing and talking with Mr. Martell and both Mr. Lannisters. Oberyn and Jaime talked about their time on the football team—she now knew why they called Jaime the Kingslayer—and Tyrion regaled her with tales of his high school adventures. _"Viserys would laugh if he saw me now, talking to my teachers like this,"_ she thought, " _but you know what? I_ like _them."_

Shortly before 11:30, Jeyne and Theon walked by, and Dany spied a large hickey blossoming on her roommate's neck. _"Wow, I thought Drogo was the only one who could give hickeys that big!"_

"Goodnight everyone!" she called, chasing after Jeyne. She caught up with them at the door, approaching them from behind and putting her arm around Jeyne's waist. "So how was your night, guys?"

"Dany!" Jeyne said nervously.

"My night was great," Theon said smugly.

"Good to hear!" Dany said as they reached the steps outside of Riverrun.

Jeyne and Theon looked pointedly at Dany. When she didn't take the hint, Theon said, "Gods, Targaryen, haven't you ever heard of third-wheeling?"

Dany playfully smacked her forehead, feigning social ineptitude. "Ohhh, this is a walkback. You want me to leave so you can make out one more time before sign-in. I got you, roomie, don't worry." She slipped inside the large double doors with a friendly wave, and darted up the stairs so she could look out from the second story stairwell window.

Jeyne stood on her tiptoes to reach Theon's lips, and their kiss was surprisingly tender, considering what Dany had assumed about the object of her roommate's affections. _"If he hurts her, well...he just doesn't know who he's dealing with."_

After signing in with the dorm parent on duty, Dany knocked on Sansa and Margaery's door.

"Come in!" came the voice from within.

Dany opened the door and found Sansa and Margaery sitting cross-legged on Sansa's bed.

"Come sit!" Margaey said, "Tell us about your night!"

"My night? I think everyone else had a more interesting night than I did!"

"What do you—" Margaery was interrupted by another knock, and suddenly Jeyne had opened the door and jumped on the bed with the girls. "You will not _believe_ the night I had!" she began excitedly.

"Is that a hickey?" Sansa's eyes widened.

Jeyne clapped a hand to her neck, blushing. "Umm, no...I...I fell..."

"Yeah, fell onto Theon's lips," Daenerys muttered.

"Whoa whoa _whoa_!" Margaery exclaimed, "How much did I miss?"

"Let's see..." Dany began, "Jeyne and Theon did illicit things obviously, Sansa left with Sandor Clegane, and I had a quiet evening talking to the Lannisters and Martell about the good ole days."

"Sansa Stark you did _not_ get with the Hound!" Jeyne gaped.

"No! I didn't! How do you even know that, Dany?" Sansa was blushing, too.

"Tyrion saw you guys," she said smugly, "so what happened? Is he a good kisser? The whole tall, dark, and dangerous thing really works for him. Scars are such a turn on."

"Okay, you two need to tell Dany and I everything that happened tonight and don't leave out any details!" Margaery commanded.

"Well," Jeyne began, shifting her position on the bed, "you all know how I'm like totally in love with Theon Greyjoy, and at the dance we started grinding and that was good and all but then he asked if I wanted to go hang out so of course I said yes! And we ended up in the laundry room and we hooked up on top of the washing machine how hot is that?" she finished, beaming. "I can't believe I just hooked up with Theon!"

"I'm so happy for you, Jeyne!" Margaery said.

"Yeah," Sansa said quietly, "but I don't want you to get hurt. It's Theon. He...he gets around. You know that."

"Who cares? He hooked up with me!"

"Okay, now it's your turn, Sansa! Tell us all about Sandor!" Dany urged her friend to speak.

"It's not what you guys think at all," Sansa said, "I was dancing with Dany and then Meryn Trant grabbed my ass and tried to grind with me, and Dany had disappeared so I had to try to get him away myself but he wouldn't leave me alone and he was getting sort of violent—"

Dany raised her eyebrows in shock, "I thought I was helping you by leaving! I wanted to give you some privacy if I had known I wouldn't have—"

Sansa interrupted her rambling, "it's okay, Dany, really. Sandor miraculously appeared and pulled Meryn off me, and then we left so he wouldn't try to hurt me again. Nothing happened between Sandor and I—we just sat on a bench near the Blackwater and I cried a little bit and he held me and then we were just talking the rest of the night, and he walked me back to the dorm before sign in. That's it."

Margaery's eyebrows were knitted together in concern. "Sansa, if you want me to talk to Joffrey about Meryn for you, I can—"

"Thanks, Marg," Sansa looked at her roommate sadly, "but you know Team Violate. The name says it all."

Daenerys's heart had shattered a little bit at Sansa's story. What had happened between Sansa and Team Violate?

"Thanks gods for Sandor," Dany said.

"Yeah, for real," Jeyne agreed.

"Now, Dany," Sansa abruptly changed the subject, "Tell us about your night."

"Well," she began, eyes glimmering, "in high school, Mr. Martell slept with every single girl on the field hockey team!"


	18. Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write Theon's POV because of all the interest shown in the Theon/Jeyne plotline.   
> For the people requesting Ygritte's POV etc, I decided to stick with writing the POVs that are in the books, with the exception of Sandor because I think his POV is important to the story.   
> Feel free to suggest anything you'd like to see in the future in this story!  
> (P. S. You guys convinced me to write Ramsay into the story somewhere in the future!)

 Theon was smug when he got back to his room after walking Jeyne back to Riverrun.

"Who was it," Robb said flatly the minute his roommate entered the room.

"Who was what?" Theon feigned ignorance.

"You're wearing your 'I got some tonight' face."

"I don't have an 'I got some tonight' face!"

"You do, man," Sandor sided with Robb.

"Well it was just Jeyne Poole," Theon admitted, "She's like in love with me or something."

" _Just_ Jeyne Poole? As in Sansa's best friend?" Robb's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, what's the big deal? She wanted to get with me, and I wanted some action. It's a win-win."

"Theon...you can't do that this time. Not to Jeyne."

"Oh come on, Robb! It was just a hookup!" Theon said, indignant.

"Exactly."

"Well, Sandor got with Sansa!" Theon blurted.

Suddenly irate, Robb wheeled around to face his other roommate, who was staring daggers at Theon.

"Please tell me," Robb began slowly, "that you did _not_ get with my little sister."

"I didn't 'get with her,'" Sandor growled.

"Come on, man!" Theon exclaimed, "The whole school saw you leave with her!"

Robb ran at Sandor, but Theon grabbed him by the back of his collar before he had a chance to do anything stupid. _"Holy fuck, Clegane is tall,"_ Theon realized as he watched Robb glare up at him.

"Easy, Stark," Sandor chuckled, "nothing happened between Sansa and I, I promise."

"But you left together!"

"We left together because Meryn Trant was giving her a hard time and I was the only one who could get him to back off. Sansa was scared, and she didn't want to be alone, so I sat with her until sign in. Nothing happened."

"Oh," Robb said softly, before deciding to direct his anger elsewhere, "well what floor does Trant live on? I'm gonna go there and I'm gonna fuck that bastard up I swear I'll—"

"Robb," Theon placed a hand on Robb's shoulder, "it's not worth it."

"But he can't do that to Sansa and get away with it!"

"Let it go, Robb, save it for the field."

Finally, Robb conceded, and apologized to Sandor.

"I'm sorry about freaking out on you, but Sandor—try anything with Sansa and I will _end_ you."

Sandor looked patronizingly at Robb. "Noted," he said, smirking.

The next morning, Theon and Robb went for a run around campus, the way they did most Sunday mornings.

"So what're you gonna do about Jeyne?" Robb asked.

"I dunno—can't we talk about something else?" Theon was not in the mood for Robb's righteousness.

"No, Theon. This is important. Do you like her?"

"Yeah I like her. She's cute."

"Beyond that, do you like her? Do you two have anything in common?"

"Umm...we both spend way too much time with the Starks?"

"Great," Robb said drily, "you're a match made in heaven."

"It was just a hookup, Robb!"

"Does Jeyne know that?"

"Yeah? Why would she think otherwise?"

"Girls are...girls are complicated."

"But you and Jeyne Westerling's relationship isn't complicated."

"Just because they share a name does not mean they're the same, Theon."

"I guess," he stared at the ground as he ran.

"So do you want it to be more than a hookup? Do you want a relationship?"

Theon thought for a second before answering.

"No. No I guess not."

"Then you've gotta tell her that. It's not fair to lead her on or give her any false ideas about what you guys have."

"Fine," Theon muttered. _"This is gonna suck."_

Later, after they had finished their run and showered, Theon and Robb were in the line for Sunday brunch. Theon spotted Jeyne across the servery, and nodded when Robb caught his eye, signifying that he would talk to her.

"You know, Robb," Theon began, "you don't have to take care of everyone the way you do."

Robb looked almost sadly at his best friend. "But where would you all be if I didn't?"


	19. Brienne

Brienne had barely returned to her apartment for Sunday night study hall and propped open her door before Sansa Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, Margaery Tyrell, and Jeyne Poole—or, as Brienne secretly referred to them, the Fab Four—had barged in, arranging themselves on the purple couch in Brienne's living room.

"Hi girls," Brienne said, sitting in her armchair, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Your date, Ms. Tarth," Daenerys began, "tell us all about it!"

"Girls, I'm not going to—"

"Yes or no answers are fine," Jeyne interrupted.

" _Fine_ ," Brienne sighed, these girls were nothing if not determined, "what do you want to know?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth before Brienne was hit with a barrage of questions.

"Did he take you to a nice restaurant? Did he pay the bill?" asked Sansa.

"Did he say you looked beautiful—because you did, Ms. Tarth," Jeyne asked.

"Did he kiss you when he brought you home? Is he a good kisser?" asked Margaery.

"Has he called you? Is there going to be a second date?" Daenerys asked.

Brienne flushed crimson.

"Yes, yes, yes, a lady doesn't kiss and tell, no, and I hope so."

"Yas, Ms. Tarth, get it!" the girls exclaimed. Her blush deepened. "And what mischief did you girls get into last night?"

The Fab Four looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

"Dany spent the night hanging out with the Lannister brothers!"

"Sansa left with Sandor Clegane—but they literally just _talked_!"

"Jeyne hooked up with Theon Greyjoy!"

"Whoa, whoa, TMI!" Brienne couldn't help but laugh, "I didn't need to know the last one."

"Okay but about Theon," Margaery began, "he told Jeyne today that he had fun, but isn't looking for a serious relationship. Now I say forget his sorry ass, but Jeyne doesn't think so. What would you do, Ms. Tarth?"

"God damn it, Margaery!" Jeyne smacked her friend on the arm.

Jeyne put up a good front, but her eyes told a different story, Brienne could tell.

"Well, I'm not exactly the boy expert, Jeyne, but no boy is worth the pain if you don't want the same thing."

"See? I told you!" Margaery insisted.

"But it's up to you, sweetie."

"Thanks, Ms. Tarth," Jeyne looked forlornly at the floor, "I just...I really like him."

Margaery, Daenerys, and Sansa all wrapped their arms around Jeyne, as if to protect her from the horrors of high school.

"Don't you worry Jeyne," Daenerys told her friend, "I'll cut his dick off if I have to."

Brienne was oddly touched by the girls' fierce protection of Jeyne. _"If only I had friends like that,"_ she thought wistfully.


	20. Tyrion

Tyrion watched Sandor and Sansa's interactions closely throughout his first period AP US class Monday morning.

_"They're not acting like two people that got freaky in some unlocked room in the basement. In fact, Sansa almost seems reluctant to look at him. If Clegane did anything to hurt her after all she's been through I will make his life hell and that will only be the beginning by the time I—"_

"Mr. Lannister, what's the format for our test this Friday?" Tyrion's plotting was interrupted by the Frey boy's question.

"Oh, right, well section one is multiple choice..."

After class, Tyrion pulled Sansa aside before she could leave. Clegane left without making eye contact, and Sansa told Margaery to go ahead without her.

"What's up, Tyrion?" she smiled.

"How many times do I have to tell you it's—"

"What's up, _Mr. Lannister_?"

He rolled his eyes. "How about we have lunch together today, Sansa? You know, catch up? Have some quality advisor-advisee bonding?"

"If you want to know what I did this weekend, you can just ask, Tyrion, but sure, let's have lunch. I'll see you during D-Block!" she grinned and left to go to her next class.

"Seven hells."

Tyrion piled his plate with pizza and spotted Sansa at the salad bar at the beginning of D-Block.

"Healthy lunch," he commented, standing beside his advisee.

"Same to you," she said sarcastically, "you literally have the eating habits of a thirteen-year-old boy."

"Don't hate! The thought of pizza for lunch is often the only reason I get up in the mornings."

"That's sort of pathetic," Sansa knitted her eyebrows together in mock concern, sitting down in one of the smaller booths in Storm's End.

"Enough about me and my pathetic life," Tyrion changed the subject, "I saw you leave with Clegane Saturday night."

"Are you my advisor or my gal pal, Tyrion?"

"Por que no los dos?" he said with a truly horrendous Spanish accent.

"If you must know, Sandor rescued me from Meryn Trant, who was groping me and would've done worse if it weren't for Sandor. All he did was sit with me until sign-in. I didn't want to be alone."

Tyrion's face fell. "Sansa, I can tell Mr. Bara—"

"No!" she exclaimed, grabbing Tyrion's forearm, "Please, Mr. Lannister, don't. I don't want my father to worry. Meryn didn't hurt me, anyways. Not this time."

"This time I won't say anything, but Sansa, if anything like this ever happens again I'm telling Mr. Baratheon. "

"Okay," she sighed, staring sadly at the lemon cake on her plate, "thank you, Mr. Lannister."

Tyrion watched as Joffrey and his gang entered the dining hall. He noticed Sandor catch Sansa'a eye, before she blushed and looked away. 

"You're _sure_ nothing's going on between you and Clegane?"Tyrion  changed the subject. 

"Tyrion! _No_!"

"I know he saved you, but be careful with Sandor Clegane. I know his family, and his brother is a monster. I'd just...keep that in mind."

"Tyrion, do _not_ tell me which boys to stay away from. I have my dad for that."

_"All I want is to protect her, and she won't even let me do that."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe I've already written 20 chapters of this.


	21. Jaime

Jaime hadn't expected Hunt and Brienne to make it to their second date, so when football season was near to drawing to a close in late October, and they happy couple was still _happy_ , Jaime was unpleasantly surprised. He wondered why Hunt had taken an interest in Brienne at all, and he wondered why she would choose a man like Hyle fucking _Hunt_ over a man like him. _"There are no men like me,"_ he reminded himself, _"only me."_

Then Jaime would wonder why he was so accursedly infatuated with a woman like Brienne Tarth. She was blonde with blue eyes, yes, but her hair was short and choppy, her nose was covered with a smattering of freckles, and although her eyes _were_ admittedly quite lovely and her lips were full, there was nothing very beautiful about her. She was tall—maybe even taller than Jaime—and she was built like a linebacker. Yet, there was something undeniably likeable about Brienne, Jaime had found.

When they first met, there was even less love between them than there was now. Brienne had been working for Catelyn Stark back then, and Brienne shared all of her boss's prejudices against the Lannisters. And having a nickname like "Kingslayer" did little to help his case.

Jaime thought Brienne was one of the ugliest girls he'd ever seen the first time he laid eyes on her. He'd still been with Cersei then, and she'd corrupted his mind almost to the point of no return. _"No, Jaime,"_ he berated himself, _"You mustn't think about Cersei."_

Jaime had grown to admire Brienne, though, and she slowly began to hate him less. He was secretly thrilled when Robert Baratheon offered her the job at Aegon's, and happier still when he found out that she would be coaching not only field hockey, but also ice hockey and crew, which he coached as well.

Jaime walked with Brienne down the hill to dinner after practice the way he usually did one night at the very end of October.

"Got any plans for Halloween?" she asked him casually.

"Not really. I think I'll buy some candy and let the kids trick-or-treat at my apartment."

"Yeah, me too," she smiled.

"I used to love Halloween when I was a kid. Tyrion would always be something funny and Cersei would be a queen and I would be a knight or something like that. We would run all over Stockbridge trick-or-treating. Our father hated it. 'Lannisters don't act like heathens in public' he'd always say." Jaime didn't know why he was telling her all this—what would she care?

"A knight, huh?" Brienne raised an eyebrow, "I would always be a knight, too."

"Did your father hate it, too?"

Her smile vanished. "I-I'd rather...not talk about my childhood."

"As you wish," he said, thinking _"I love you,"_ and they continued down the hill in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo did everyone catch my Princess Bride reference???  
> Also, who's POV do you want next?


	22. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter—what do you guys think?

Sansa felt as though she'd barely had time to breathe after returning to school before she was caught in a whirlwind of classes, field hockey, essays, and shenanigans, and suddenly two months had passed and it was Halloween.

Sansa loved Halloween. There was something so magical about a holiday where she could pretend to be anyone she wanted. At Aegon's, the students were all excused from the dress code to wear whatever costumes they wanted to class, and at night the they would trick-or-treat at the faculty's homes. This year, Sansa and her friends had decided to all dress up as hipster Disney princesses, something Sansa had been wanting to do for years. Margaery was going as Belle, Daenerys as Sleeping Beauty, Jeyne Poole as Rapunzel, Arianne as Jasmine, Meera Reed as Pocahontas, Jeyne Westerling as Snow White, Ygritte as Merida, Shireen as Cinderella, Sansa as Ariel, and they'd even convinced Arya to be Mulan.

Being the good sports that they were, Robb agreed to be Snow White's Prince for Jeyne, Gendry agreed to be Shang, and Arys Oakheart agreed to be Aladdin. Sansa found it funny that Joffrey was the Beast even without a costume, and Jeyne Poole mentioned something about how maybe people would think Theon was Flynn Rider, because they both had dark hair, blue eyes, and a cocky personality. _"She_ needs _to get over him,"_ Sansa thought, _"before he hurts her again."_

Sansa and Margaery surveyed themselves in the mirror the morning of Halloween. Margaery had pulled half of her hair back in a bun, and left the rest in loose curls; she wore a yellow dress, with thick wool socks peeking out of brown leather combat boots. Sansa was wearing a purple strapless top with green skinny jeans and green Converse high tops. She had teased her thick red hair and pulled it back into a high pony tail. Each girl wore a pair of black hipster glasses.

Margaery smiled at herself in the mirror. "We look hot," she said approvingly.

"Yeah we do!" Sansa agreed, "Let's go meet the others."

The group assembled in the quad before class began to take a picture. Everyone had dressed in the perfect hipster attire to fit their character. 

_"Jeyne and Robb look adorable. I wish I had a boyfriend to be my Prince Eric,"_ Sansa thought sadly, _"Maybe next year."_

Throughout the day, Sansa received many compliments on her costume, especially if she was with some of her friends. At lunch, they all sat together at a round table in the biggest dining hall. _"It's like we're King Arthur and his knights of the round table, or some royal court from a medieval song."_ Sansa felt some of her childhood joy and love of fairy tales return with that thought.

"What are you and Margaery supposed to be?" Sandor Clegane asked her during History, the last class of the day.

"Well she's Belle—you know, from _Beauty and the Beast_?—and I'm Ariel from _The Little Mermaid_ ," she explained.

"So Joffrey is Margaery's Beast but who's your knight in shining armor?"

Sansa suddenly imagined Sandor as Prince Eric, with his long black hair and muscular build, and felt a blush creep up her cheeks. _"Sansa Stark what has gotten into you?"_

"I don't have a knight in shining armor; there are no true knights," she said softly with a hint of bitterness, glancing at Joffrey before looking into Sandor's stormy grey eyes, "and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. You taught me that, Sandor."

"I suppose I did," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he gazed at Sansa, undressing her with his eyes, "but you taught me that sometimes we can't help being fools."

_"What is he_ talking _about?"_ Sansa wondered, before saying, "Are you calling yourself a fool?"

"Perhaps," he paused, looking uncertain about something, "Sansa, would you ever want to—"

"Happy Halloween, everyone," Tyrion said by way of greeting, entering the room and shutting the door behind him, "Let's get right to work."

_"Was Sandor Clegane just about to ask me out?_ Sansa thought, incredulous, as she stared blankly at her textbook, trying to focus. _"Don't be ridiculous,"_ she decided, _"Life isn't a song, and Sandor thinks you're just a silly girl with her head in the clouds. He always has."_

After class, Sansa was walking through the basement to pick up her laundry from the laundry service. The basement always creeped Sansa out a little bit, with its twists and turns, exposed pipes running through the ceiling, cracked paint on the walls, and eerie blood red stone floors, especially on days like today when no one else was around. Sansa entered the laundry service room, and was looking for her bundle of clothes on one of the many racks when she heard a noise at the door.

"Well well well," Joffrey stood just inside the room, Meryn Trant and Boros Blount blocking the doorway behind him, "if it isn't the little Stark bitch."

"Leave me alone, Joffrey," she said defensively.

"I haven't even done anything...yet," his wormy lips curled into what Sansa thought was his attempt at a smile.

Sansa strode across the room and tried to pass through Meryn and Boros, but Boros grabbed her arm.

"Not so fast," Joffrey turned to face her.

"What do you _want_ , Joffrey?" Sansa was terrified.

"This isn't about what _I_ want. This is about Meryn. Meryn would like what you denied him."

"That was weeks ago! Please! Just let me go!"

"I like to keep my friends happy, Sansa, and right now Meryn isn't happy," Joffrey nodded at Boros, who released Sansa, letting her fall to the floor. He turned to Meryn, "Have fun, just leave the face. We wouldn't want anyone to worry now would we?" Joffrey and Boros left, leaving Sansa alone with Meryn Trant.

_"This isn't happening. This isn't happening. It's just a dream—just a nightmare. You'll wake up and Margaery will laugh at you for screaming in your sleep."_ Meryn was leering at her. _"Don't be a fool, what did Sandor tell you? You're just a stupid fool."_

"Please," she whispered, "Don't hurt me, please."

"No promises."

Sansa clenched her eyes shut, praying for it to be over. She felt Meryn's hands grab her, and she screamed.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sansa heard a voice at the door. 

Her first thought was that it was Sandor, her knight in shining armor here to rescue her again. She opened her eyes and saw Petyr Baelish, her math teacher, and an old friend of her mother. Meryn released her, and she sighed in relief, jumping up from the floor.

"Um, I was just, we were," Meryn struggled to find words.

"Get out of my sight, Trant," Baelish said, and Meryn scampered from the room, "Are you alright, Sansa?

"I'm fine," she mumbled, "Thank you for stopping him, Mr. Baelish."

"It was the least I could do, Sansa," the way he said her name sent shivers down Sansa's spine. Mr. Baelish had been in love with her mother once, and everyone said Sansa looked a lot like Catelyn Stark. "Your mother is one of my best friends, you know."

"Yes, she speaks very highly of you, Mr. Baelish."

"We're not in class, Sansa, call me Petyr."

"You won't tell anyone about this will you Mr. B—Petyr? I wouldn't want my father to worry."

"Ah yes, your father. No, I suppose we wouldn't want him to worry. I won't tell him."

"Thank you so much, Petyr!"

"But there is something you'll have to do in return."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a general idea of the girls' costumes: http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/5d/67/bd/5d67bd7558d94ccb958111b114160278.jpg
> 
> For more information about who teaches what, etc: http://mygiantoflannisters.tumblr.com/post/89684043125/so-this-is-what-im-thinking-for-my-asoiaf


	23. Arya

It was Monday of the final week of the fall sports season—Spirit Week—and Arya couldn't have been more thrilled. Saturday was The Sack of King's Landing, the day when all of Aegon's Academy's sports teams would face off against their rivals. This year was King's Landing's turn to host, so after classes on Saturday most of the school would pile onto buses and make the trek to the opposing school.

Arya loved Spirit Week, and she especially loved that the end of field hockey season meant that the winter sports season would soon begin. In the winter Arya fenced, taught by her advisor, Syrio Forel. She couldn't wait to start fencing again, and to go see Gendry and her brothers play hockey with Shireen.

Living so far North her whole life, Arya had naturally grown up playing hockey with her brothers, and she loved to watch them play at school. She and Sansa had always appreciated the aesthetically pleasing aspect of boys that played hockey, and Sansa even went so far as to manage the Boy's Varsity Hockey Team with Jeyne Poole. _"What a slut,"_ Arya chuckled, _"but she's got the right idea."_

Each day of Spirit Week had a different theme: Nerd Day, Fictional Character Day, Farm Day, Twin Day, Biffy and Buffy Day, and the day of the Sack of King's Landing everyone wore red and black, the school colors. The night before the Sack, everyone gathered in Rhaenys Auditorium for a huge pep rally, which the students referred to as Red Riot.

"Lookin' good, Arya," Lommy said mockingly when he joined Arya, Hot Pie, and Gendry for breakfast on Nerd Day.

Arya looked down at her outfit: a white oxford shirt with a calculator and pencils in the chest pocket, a pair of plaid boxers held up by suspenders, her ugliest sneakers with tall white socks, a pair of thick-framed glasses with tape wrapped around the middle, and her short hair done in tiny pigtails. "Lommy, you don't even have to dress up to look like a nerd," she retorted.

To this, Lommy found no response.

"Ooh she said your momma!" Hot Pie guffawed.

"Shut up, Hot Pie," his three friends said simultaneously.

"Sorry," he muttered.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Arya dressed as Black Widow on Fictional Character Day, as a fried egg on Farm Day (she didn't want to be like all the other girls dressed as slutty cowgirls), twinned with Shireen on Twin Day, and was forced into a Lilly Pulitzer dress and Jack Rogers sandals by Sansa on Biffy and Buffy Day, much to her disgust. Florals and pastels just weren't Arya's thing.

The night of Red Riot, Arya threw on one of Gendry's football jerseys over a pair of leggings, and went with Shireen to Rhaenys Auditorium, meeting up with Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry along the way.

"I heard the Imp is going to breakdance this year!" Hot Pie said excitedly. It was tradition for the faculty to perform ridiculous skits during Red Riot.

"Holy shit I hope so! Wouldn't that be great, Shireen?" Arya said, before noticing Lommy and Shireen walking a few steps behind everyone else. Lommy appeared to be talking her roommate's ear off, and Arya didn't know whether she thought it was cute or if she wanted to vomit. _"Too bad Shireen's in love with Robb,"_ Arya thought, smiling. 

Arya and her friends managed to get seats close to the stage in the auditorium, using the fact that Gendry played football as an excuse. Red Riot began, with Jaime and Tyrion Lannister MCing, the way they always did. They told a few jokes about the King's Landing students, and then the real fun began. 

The first skit of the night involved Jaime dressed as a boy from King's Landing, and Ms. Tarth dressed as a girl from Aegon's. "Call Me Maybe" was blasting, as Jaime attempted to woo Brienne, who rejected his advances. The audience roared with laughter as Jaime's dance moves got crazier and crazier.

Next, the school monitors performed a skit about what King's Landing did the night before what they referred to as Aegon's Conquering. Arya rolled her eyes at Robb and Arianne, who were expected to be the most ridiculous ones onstage because they were the head monitors, elected by their peers to lead the students. 

The Captain's Video was played next, which featured intense shots of the captains of the various sports teams with pump up music playing in the background.

Tyrion did indeed breakdance, along with Jaime, Brienne, Oberyn Martell, and Ellaria Sand, to the song "Turn Down for What." Later, Varys and Petyr Baelish did a hysterical rendition of "Let It Go," with the lyrics changed to relate to Red Riot. The seniors played their funny video about a student transferring from King's Landing to Aegon's.

But the best part of the night by far was when Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark took the stage and performed a rap about beating King's Landing. Arya cringed and covered her face the whole time as her usually stoic father made a fool out of himself and reduced the entire school to uproarious laughter. 

That night, Arya went to bed smiling and dreamed about field hockey. In her dream, she blocked every single goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the Red Riot skits are based off of things the students and faculty have done at my school for our big pep rally!
> 
> Arya's fried egg costume (maybe Gendry is the bacon!): http://s9.thisnext.com/media/largest_dimension/D1711462.jpg  
> Arya's Lilly Pulitzer dress: http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/28/82/a4/2882a41176ff5c33be15bc0b6ed0a361.jpg  
> Inspiration for the senior's Red Riot video in the story: http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vx0NVnw8Bd4


	24. Sandor

Sandor found an empty seat at the very back of the bus, and prepared to sleep for the duration of the ride to King's Landing. His football game wasn't until much later in the day, so he figured it would be best to get some rest when he could. As he was putting on his headphones, a winded Sansa Stark appeared in the aisle, her hair mussed and cheeks flushed.

"Hi, Sandor, I was running late and I don't know where any of my friends are and I think this is the only empty seat on this bus so can I please sit with you?" she blurted.

The little bird looked about ready to beg, and he considered letting her, but decided against it. He could never refuse that damn girl anything.

"Fine," he consented, and she sat down next to him, tossing her bag under the seat.

"Thank you so much, Sandor!" she impulsively hugged him, and then quickly pulled away, blushing. "Sorry..." she muttered. 

"It's no problem, little bird," he smirked, "I won't tell Harry."

Sansa's eyes widened and a look—fear?—crossed her face. "How in seven hells did you _know_?"

"I live with your brother and whatever Theon is to you—I hear everything, whether they want me to hear or not."

"But what did Robb _say_?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he grinned wolfishly. 

"Sandor!" she whined. He was enjoying this far too much. "You have to tell me! They're my brothers!"

"I was sworn to secrecy. Bro Code."

"Sandor Clegane I cannot believe you just said that you, Robb, and Theon have a 'Bro Code.' What, do you guys all sit on the floor and play truth or dare and do each other's makeup, too?" She crossed her arms. _"Looks like I got the little bird's feathers all ruffled."_

"I should probably take a nap now," he said torturously, putting on his headphones. "And not that it's any of your business what my roommates and I do in our spare time, but Theon did get drunk and braid my hair once."

"I'm not a total idiot, Sandor," she said defensively, "If anything, it was Robb that got drunk and braided your hair." Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously as she, too, put in her headphones. "And I know you'll tell me what Robb said eventually."

Sansa and Sandor listened to their music in silence. He stared out the window at the passing scenery, and tried not to be too aware of the fact that Sansa's leg was pressed against his, and that he wished the rest of her was pressed up against him as well. _"Get it together, dog. The Stark bitch will never want a mangy mutt like you. Don't be fucking stupid."_

Sandor noticed that the little bird was humming, and he took off his headphones. "What are you listening to, little bird?"

"Oh, just the Brotherhood Without Banners's new album," she said shyly.

Sandor raised his eyebrows. "You like BWB?"

She nodded vehemently. "Are you kidding? "The Rains of Castamere" has been my favorite song forever. Did you know that some people think it's about Tywin Lannister, the assistant headmaster before Jon Arryn? And they're newer stuff is great, too! Have you heard "The Day They Hanged Black Robin" yet?"

Sandor couldn't help but be shocked. The Brotherhood Without Banners was a pretty heavy rock group. He would never have expected Sansa to like their music as much as she seemed to—he would've thought she'd be more into lighter pop music. _"This fucking girl is an enigma."_

"They're my favorite band, too," he admitted, "I love 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair.'"

"Me too! Berric Dondarrion's vocals are so beautiful in that one!"

All thoughts of a nap forgotten, Sandor spent the rest of the bus ride listening to the Brotherhood Without Banners's latest album with Sansa. When they arrived at King's Landing School, Sansa kept talking to him, and he walked with her as she followed other members of her team to the field hockey field.

"Sansa! There you are!" Margaery Tyrell and the Targaryen girl ran towards Sansa, Harrold Hardying close behind them. "Where did you disappear to?"

Sansa walked over to her friends and kissed Harry by way of greeting. She gave them the whole story, and Sandor took this as his cue to leave. The little bird didn't even notice until he was already long gone. 


	25. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all don't mind another Arya chapter so soon

The field hockey game against King's Landing was grueling. Arya blocked, kicked, whacked, ran, dove, and moved every which way to block the opposing team from making a goal, and at the end of the second half the scoreboard still read 0-0. They went into overtime.

Arya dove to the ground to block a shot, and then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Arya blocked the shot just fine, catapulting it away from the goal...

...right to the stick of one of the King's Landing girls, who rammed the ball at the net as Arya scrambled to stand up. The ball sailed into the net, and King's Landing won.

No one blamed Arya, except Arya herself. She knew the situation could've easily been reversed, but she hated losing.

At that point, most of the games were already over, except football. Arya, Sansa, Margaery, Jeyne, and Daenerys made the trek across the King's Landing campus to their football stadium, which was inconviently located far away from all the other playing fields. When they arrived, it was the middle of the third quarter, and Aegon's Academy was winning, 20-6. The girls stood amongst the crowd of students clad in red and black that lined the side of the field. Sansa and Daenerys left to talk to Tyrion, and Arya slipped away from Margaery and Jeyne once she spotted Shireen. 

"Where's Gendry?" she asked her roommate, "I don't see him on the field." Gendry almost always played most of the game. 

Shireen looked worriedly at Arya. "He...Gendry got hurt."

"Hurt?! How hurt?!"

"Not bad! He got tackled, and they're making him sit out the rest. Robb is playing amazingly, though, he made two touchdowns already." Robb, Arya's perfect brother, was the team's star quarterback and co-captain, in addition to being Head Monitor, and having a perfect relationship. Arya loved Robb—how could you not?—but "slacker" Jon was her favorite brother for sure, even if he was only her half-brother. 

The game continued. The Red Sweater Club—Aegon's own sort of cheerleaders—led the crowd in screaming cheers, and Arya joined in. School spirit made her oddly happy. 

"ONE! WE ARE THE DRAGONS! TWO! A LITTLE BIT LOUDER! THREE! I STILL CANT HEAR YOU! MORE MORE MORE MORE ONE!" the school cheered, and Aegon's scored another touchdown. 

As arrogant as he was, Arya had to admit that Jaime Lannister was an excellent coach. 

Halfway through the fourth and final quarter, the score was 26-18, with Aegon's still in the lead. The minutes ticked by slowly, too slowly for Arya's liking. She just wanted to kick King's Landing's ass and go see Gendry. 

In the final few minutes, Robb scored again, and it was over. The clock ran out, and all of the Aegon's Academy spectators stormed the field. Arya went with everyone, laughing and whooping and running up to Gendry, kissing him full on the lips.

"You're okay, right?" she asked, concerned. 

"I've probably just got a concussion, if that. Nothing major," Gendry shrugged. 

"Good." She kissed him again, and thought she heard Hot Pie screaming at her to "get a room."

They say together on the bus ride back, and kissed as much as they could before Hot Pie or Lommy, sitting behind them, would interrupt. Once they'd arrived back at school around eight, Arya and Gendry left to shower and change, agreeing to meet up at nine.

Arya led her boyfriend to the farthest soccer field from the school buildings, and spread out the blankets she'd brought on the ground.

"I hope you've got a condom," she said pointedly, "because I decided that a soccer field is as classy as my first time is gonna get at this damn school. 


	26. Daenerys

The morning after the Sack of King's Landing, Dany awoke with a start, tangled in a blanket on the floor in Sansa's room, when she heard an insistent knocking at the door. Sansa stirred slightly, sticking her head underneath her pillow and muttering "go away." Dany got up, stepped around Jeyne, who was sprawled across Margaery's hot pink shag area rug, and opened the door a crack. 

It was Arya.

"Good. You're here, too. Where's Margaery?" Arya barged in before Dany could utter so much as a hello, and jumped on Sansa's bed.

Sansa groaned, emerging from underneath her pillow and using it to smack her little sister. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Arya looked nervously at her hands, blushing. Margaery and Jeyne had woken up by now, and were watching Arya expectantly. 

"So, last night Gendry and I, well, we," she made some sort of wild gesture with her hands, "in the soccer field and I was just going to ask—"

The girls' reactions varied.

Sansa was indignant and shocked. "You had _sex_?!"

Jeyne was laughing. "Gendry got laaaaaaid!"

Margaery was grinning her crooked smile. "Way to go, baby Stark." 

Daenerys was unsurprised. "I have the morning after pill, if that's what you're looking for."

"I _don't_ need the morning after pill! I just...I wanted some...advice." Sansa opened her mouth to respond. "From Margaery. And Dany," Arya snapped, muttering "Virgin Mary," under her breath at Sansa.

Sansa whacked Arya with the pillow again.

"What kind of advice?" Daenerys asked. 

"Okay, well what's a good way to—"

"I can't listen to this—I'm taking a shower," Sansa grabbed a towel and fled the room. Dany couldn't help but grin. _"Imagine me asking Viserys for advice."_

"So what do you want to know, baby Stark?" Margaery asked. 

"Well, you and Dany seem like you've had a lot of sex, so just give me your best tips. Not just girl stuff, guy stuff, too, because Gendry...he needs some help."

Jeyne's eyes widened. "You better hope Robb never finds out you fucked Gendry Waters on the soccer field."

"Meh. Robb doesn't scare me."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you basically just called me a slut, and tell you all the stuff I learned in Europe, okay?" Dany said, "Gods know _why_."

"The best I can do is tell you what Gendry's roommate likes," Margaery giggled, "But guys are all the same, right?" 

Arya pretended to gag.

"Well when I was living in France I learned how to..." Dany began talking, with Margaery or Jeyne chiming in every once in a while. By the time Dany and Margaery had imparted all of their knowledge, Arya seemed much more self-confident. Oddly enough, Dany had loved giving Arya advice like that, even though she was usually very reserved when talking about her past. She supposed that she saw Arya as the little sister she never had, or as a substitute for the niece she could barely remember.

When Sansa returned from the shower, Arya delighted in teasing her older sister.

"Not counting Rickon, Sansa is the only virgin left in the family!" Arya laughed.

" _No_!" Sansa protested, "What about Bran?"

"Oh please. Who knows what kind of freaky shit he does with Jojen and Meera Reed!"

When Dany wasn't with Sansa or Arya, she was with the other members of the StarkGreySnow clan, as she had begun referring to them. Robb, Theon, and Jon had welcomed Dany into their group surprisingly willingly for belonging to what Viserys would call "the enemy." Dany, however, couldn't find it in her to have any animosity towards the Starks, and the boys provided a refreshing change of pace every once in a while. 

"Jaime and Tyrion totally wanna hit that," Theon gestured towards Daenerys, beer can in hand, as Robb, Jon, Sam, Grenn, Pyp, and Sandor sat drinking on the green of the golf course's thirteenth hole. It was an unseasonably warm Saturday night in mid November—Thanksgiving break was fast approaching. 

"Don't be disgusting, Theon," Dany laughed, sipping her beer, "Jaime maybe, but Tyrion would never try that shit with a student."

"You don't know the Imp," Grenn said, "last year he was such a horny bastard, with that hot French teacher he was fucking."

This was news to Dany. Sure, Mr. Lannister was a little blunt sometimes, but the sex-crazed badass that the boys depicted him as seemed more like a caricature than a real person. Dany loved talking to Tyrion; he was witty and clever, and something about him was very appealing—but above all, he was _sad_. The boys didn't seem to realize that.

Dany found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss her Latin teacher, to have him push her down against his desk, but she stopped herself. _"No boys, Daenerys,"_ she reminded herself, and suddenly thought of one of her favorite Lumineers songs.

"Boys will break your back and heart," she sang softly, too low for anyone to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for your continued support, and feel free to leave any questions/comments/requests in the comments!


	27. Jon

Jon and Ygritte broke up all the time; they did many things all the time. They laughed all the time, had sex all the time, argued all the time, hung out with Grenn and Pyp and Sam and Gilly all the time, got back together all the time, and Ygritte told Jon that he knew nothing all the time. But even broken up, Jon and Ygritte were always faithful to each other. 

Except for once, when Jon wasn't. 

The breakup had been like any other.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow!" Ygritte had said. 

"I know I love you," Jon had said back. 

And then Ygritte had slapped him, and suggested that they take a break. Jon agreed, rubbing his cheek where an angry red handprint was blooming upon it. 

Thanksgiving break started the next weekend, and Jon needed the time away from school to clear his head. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, everyone knew that. He and Ygritte would be back together come December. 

But then it was Saturday night, and he and Robb and Theon and Sam and Grenn and Pyp and Sandor were getting drunk on the golf course with Daenerys. Her hair had shone even more silvery in the moonlight, and he became very aware of how beautiful she was. It wasn't that he'd never appreciated her attractiveness before—Pyp and Grenn talked incessantly about all manner of crude things they'd like to do to her—but the fact that now he was technically single made her more appealing.

The group split apart around 10:30, but Daenerys decided to stay on the golf course. She said she liked the feeling of being out under the stars. Jon did, too, so he decided to stay with her. 

Jon and Daenerys sat in silence, looking up at the sky. It was a nice kind of silence.

Jon surprised himself when he kissed her, and was even more surprised when she kissed him back. She pulled away suddenly, whispering, "What about Ygritte?" He shook his head and kissed her again. 

She deepened the kiss, and he pushed her down onto the soft, manicured grass of the green, pulling off her shirt and only barely fumbling with the clasp of her bra. Theon had taught him how to take a girl's bra off in under three seconds. He worked his way down her exposed body, covering her in kisses. Suddenly, he found himself on his back; she had flipped him over and was now unbuttoning his shirt.

More clothes were taken off, and as Daenerys Targaryen fucked him in the darkness on the golf course, all he could think of was his last conversation with Ygritte.

_"You know nothing, Jon Snow."_

_"I know I love you."_

_You know nothing you know nothing you know nothing._

The words tormented him.

When it was over, they walked down the hill to the dorms in silence. At the door to Riverrun, Daenerys leaned in and he thought she meant to kiss him, but she only hugged him tightly.

"Don't worry, Ygritte won't ever know. No one will," she whispered in his ear.

"Ygritte and I broke up," he insisted, more for himself than anything.

"Then why are there tears in your eyes?"

Standing on her tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his cheek, smiled sadly at him, and slipped into the dorm.

 _You know nothing you know nothing you know nothing._

He crossed the quad to Dragonstone and mounted the stairs, and for once he was glad not to meet anyone along the way. There were tears streaming down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who's POV do you want next?


	28. Brienne

Everyone got the week off for Thanksgiving, but Brienne had decided to stay at school rather than go home. Christmas would be there soon enough, and she would rather only answer her family's annoying questions once. She could hear them in her head already. 

_What is it you do again?_ I coach field hockey, ice hockey, and crew and work as a dorm parent at a prestigious New England prep school, thank you very much. 

_Do you have a boyfriend?_ I do actually, not that it's any of your business.

_Oh isn't that lovely!_ Always the look of surprise, am I right?

Hyle was going home to visit his family, but he was from Connecticut, and didn't live very far away from Aegon's, so he promised to visit Brienne during the week.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving they spent all day together, and Hyle invited Brienne to his house for Thanksgiving dinner. She agreed, but was slightly nervous about meeting his family.

Thanksgiving dinner at the Hunt household was a pleasant affair. His parents were nice enough, although they exuded an air that seemed to imply that their son could do better. The rest of his family was fine, they seemed to like Brienne and she liked them, too. They asked lots of questions, but she knew they asked out of sheer curiosity rather than excessive nosiness, like her family did.

After everyone had gone home, and Hyle's parents had gone to bed, he and Brienne went downstairs to his room in the basement. They sat on his bed and began kissing, and Brienne thought that perhaps tonight would be the night they first had sex. She'd been surprised when Hyle hadn't tried to force himself on her right away, and if anything she seemed to want to do more than he did. She reached to take off his pants, but he stopped her. 

"What are you _doing_?" he asked. 

"I was just...I thought...maybe tonight would be the night that we—"she struggled to find the right words.

Hyle looked almost disgusted. "I don't want to have _sex_ with you!"

"I...what?"

"Did you really think we were going to have sex? That _I_ would want to have sex with _you_?"

"But you're my...boyfriend," she hated how childish she sounded saying it.

" _Boyfriend?_ Is that what you think this is? I'm only dating you to get my parents off my case!"

"But I thought..." She paused, "You know what? I'm done. I'm leaving. Goodbye, Hyle,"

"Brienne where the fuck are you going? You don't even have a car!" he called as she quickly ascended the stairs.

"I said _goodbye_."

Brienne left the house and sat on the front stoop in the crisp fall air. She pulled out her phone, called the first person whose name caught her eye, and realized her hands were shaking when Jaime Lannister answered the phone.


	29. Jaime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As demanded, Jaime's POV! Happy reading!

Jaime spent Thanksgiving in Boston at the Baratheon mansion. He had fond memories of Thanksgivings in Stockbridge as a child, before his mother died, but once Tyrion was born Thanksgiving became no more than a silent, tense affair with his father, sister, and brother. Thanksgiving with the Baratheons was different, but no better.

This year was the same as always. Robert was drinking himself into a stupor, Cersei was seething with her own cup of wine in hand, his father was engaged in polite conversation with Stannis, Tyrion was making japes with Shireen in the corner, and Renly had disappeared right after dinner, no doubt to be with that Tyrell boy he was so fond of. Cersei looked like she was going to come talk to him when his phone rang. He saw that it was Brienne, and caught Tyrion's eye across the room, beckoning his little brother to leave with him. They slipped into the hallway and Jaime answered the phone.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Jaime! You have to come p-pick me up!" the wench sounded close to tears.

Jaime grabbed his coat and car keys and was out the door before she could say another word, with Tyrion at his heels.

"Where are you? What happened?" He started the car and pulled out of the driveway. 

"Hyle he...I'm in Connecticut—in Newtown, at Hyle's family's house. Please Jaime, come quickly."

"I'm on my way," he said grimly, "I'm leaving Boston now, so I'll be there in a few hours. Will you be okay until then?"

"I'll be fine. Thank you, Jaime."

"It's my pleasure, Brienne."

"So the dashing, brave knight is off to rescue his fair lady with his brother, the funny sidekick," Tyrion quipped.

"This isn't the time for your jokes, Tyrion!" Jaime snapped, immediately regretting it when he saw Tyrion's face fall.

"The sidekick will shut up, then."

They drove in silence. Jaime sped as fast as he could along the highways, and made it to Newtown in record time. He called Brienne and asked her for the address of Hyle's family.

"Stay in the car," he told Tyrion, as they pulled into the driveway and he jumped out.

"Whatever you say, boss."

Jaime found Brienne on the front steps of the house, shivering, with tear streaks down her face. Jaime pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her.

"Where is he? Is he inside?" Jaime was suddenly furious.

"Yes he's in the basement, but Jaime please don't do anything stupid," Brienne pleaded.

"No promises, Brienne. I'm an oathbreaker, remember? Now go get in the car and warm up. I'll only be gone a minute." He opened the door as she walked to the car.

Jaime descended the stairs and found Hyle. "Brienne? Is that you?" he called through the darkness.

"Nope, sorry," he replied, flicking on the lights.

"Jaime? What are you—"

Jaime grabbed Hyle by the throat and pinned him against the wall. "What did you _do_ to her, Hunt?"

"I didn't-the bitch got mad when I wouldn't fuck her! I was just with her to get my parents off my ass! You can't blame me, Kingslayer! You've seen the bitch! She's fucking hideous!"

"Oh, you _really_ shouldn't have said that," Jaime's voice was dangerously quiet. 

"My parents are upstairs! If you try anything, Kingslayer, they'll hear you!" Hunt was getting desperate. 

Thinking of Brienne, Jaime punched Hyle in the face, hopefully breaking the cocksucker's nose, and let him drop to the floor.

"Brienne Tarth sends her regards," he said, a grin on his lips, as he dashed up the basement steps and returned to the car, leaving Hyle Hunt moaning on the floor. 

"What did you _do_?" Tyrion and Brienne both asked as he got in the car and drove away.

"A Lannister always pays his debts," was Jaime's reply, "Where do you want to go now, Brienne?"

"Oh, you can just take me back to Aegon's."

"Great idea," Tyrion said, "I'm sick of my dear family already and I'd rather be back in my nice apartment."

Jaime couldn't help but agree, so they all drove back to Aegon's. Once back on campus, Brienne invited the boys up to her apartment, where they drank beer and played cards well into the wee hours of the morning. Tyrion left after a string of losses, leaving Jaime and Brienne.

"Thank you, Jaime," she looked into his eyes shyly from under her eyelashes. 

She looked so beautiful and so sad, sitting there on the floor of the apartment across from him at the coffee table, beating him at a heated round of Go Fish somewhere around four in the morning, that he couldn't take it anymore. Jaime leaned across the low table and kissed her, right then and there. He grinned into the kiss when she returned it, and he pulled her onto the couch.

The next morning, Jaime awoke to find himself laying naked next to a very naked Brienne, wrapped in a blanket on her purple couch.

"Morning," came a voice from the nearby kitchen, and Jaime screamed, waking Brienne. Tyrion was sitting on one of Brienne's barstools, sipping a cup of coffee. "Thought I'd find you here," he smirked, "Coffee, anyone?"


	30. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading everyone's comments on the last chapter left me grinning like an idiot, so thank you all so much for your kind words and continued support of this silly little story that has taken over my life!

"Sandor, what're you doing for Thanksgiving Break?" Robb had asked him one night during study hall.

"Uh, nothing." He had a sudden image of Gregor sitting across from him at a table laden with a giant turkey and other food. The thought almost made him laugh—it was so preposterous. 

"Like, _nothing_ nothing or just having dinner with family nothing?"

"Nothing nothing," he replied. He knew Robb was just trying to be nice, but his questions angered Sandor all the same. 

Robb looked shocked. "Then you've gotta come home with me and Theon, Sandor!"

Sandor began to protest. "Oh, no I wouldn't want to—"

"Oh shut up, man! My mom loves Thanksgiving and we always have a big crowd. What's one more person? You're coming home with us."

Sandor opened his mouth to refuse, but was stopped by Theon. "Just go with it, dude. The Starks are pretty chill, anyway."

"Fine," Sandor muttered, secretly pleased that he would be eating a real Thanksgiving dinner for the first time since his mother died so many years ago.

The rest of the week passed quickly, and soon enough it was Saturday and Sandor was piling into Mr. Stark's huge van for the ride up to Maine. The car was packed; in addition to the four oldest Stark children, there was also Theon and Jon, with the addition of Samwell Tarly and the Targaryen girl, invited by Jon and Sansa, respectively. Sandor found himself wedged between Jon Snow and the little bird herself. _"Well fuck,"_ he thought as he felt Sansa's leg pressed up against him, _"This is gonna be one fucking long car ride."_

When they finally made it all the way north to the Stark home outside of Bangor, Sandor's jaw literally dropped. The house was at the end of a ridiculously long driveway in the middle of the woods, and the house wasn't really a house—it was a mansion. Everyone jumped out of the car and grabbed their luggage.

"Well, this is it," Sansa smiled at him, "Come on!"

He followed her into the house, where they were greeted by a woman who could only be Mrs. Stark—she was beautiful and looked remarkably like Sansa—and a little boy. _"What was his name? Ricky? Richard?"_

"Sam! It's so nice to see you again!" Mrs. Stark hugged Jon's friend and kissed his cheek, making the chubby boy blush. She turned to Daenerys. "And you must be Daenerys!" She hugged her as Dany thanked her for the invitation. Releasing Daenerys, Mrs. Stark's eyes met Sandor's. "Sandor? So good to finally meet you! My children never stop talking about you, dear," she gave him a hug, and he stiffened. He wasn't used to people like the Starks being so nice to him.

"Thank you for having me," he replied, suddenly shy.

"Any friend of my children's is a friend of me, too, and you are always welcome here. That goes for you as well, Sam and Dany!"

"Wanna go upstairs?" Sansa asked, "We can show you guys your rooms!"

They followed Sansa out of the foyer up the grand staircase to the second floor.

"All of our rooms and the guest rooms are to the left," Sansa told the newcomers, "and my parents' room is to the right."

Sandor was surprised when he, Sam, and Dany all got their own rooms. Sam and Sandor shared a bathroom in between their rooms, and Daenerys was across the hall. The other kids' rooms were further down. Sandor unpacked some clothes into his dresser and was listening to music when Mrs. Stark called everyone down for dinner.

That night, the kids all hung out in the basement, watching movies and talking and laughing. Sandor almost felt like he was part of a real family. When he finally fell asleep later on, he felt happy, genuinely happy. 

Sandor woke up the next morning, and took a shower. He was standing in his room, naked, when suddenly the door burst open and his grey eyes made eye contact with the blue eyes of Sansa Stark—but only for a second, before her eyes were drawn elsewhere.

If Sandor was the kind of person who blushed, he would've been blushing, but instead he decided to play it cool. "See something you like, little bird?" He grinned as her eyes flicked back up to meet his, her cheeks turning redder than her hair. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. 

"Fucking hell I can't believe I just ran in here like that I thought this was Dany's room and shit fuck I'm sorry," she rambled. 

Sandor laughed. "No problem, little bird. I didn't know you swore."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," she said, running from the room.

Sansa avoided making eye contact with Sandor for the next few days, the way she had for the first two years he'd known her. At one point he thought he heard Daenerys asking "But was it _big_?" and he had winked lasciviously at the girls from across the room. Something about the fact that she now had a new boyfriend made him want to be overtly flirtatious. 

On Tuesday, Sansa appeared at Sandor's door—knocking before entering this time.

"What's up?" he asked, wondering what she was doing as she sat down on his bed.

"So, I have a proposition," she began.

"I like the sound of that," he answered.

"Well, I have two tickets to a Brotherhood Without Banners concert in Portland this Saturday, and I was supposed to go with Jeyne but she has some family thing so she can't go anymore. Harry doesn't like the band, and neither does anyone else in my family, so I didn't bother asking them. But then, I remembered that you like BWB, too, so I was wondering if you'd want to go with me?" She bit her lip hopefully. 

"Are you kidding? I've been dying to see them live! Of course I'll go!" He was pleased that she'd thought of him.

Sansa squealed in delight and hugged him quickly before standing up. "Then it's a date!" She blushed, realizing what she'd said. 

"If you say so, little bird," he smirked.


	31. Ned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trumpet fanfare* and now, the widely requested Ned's POV chapter! I hope you like it!

Ned liked when the house was full. It reminded him of his childhood, of Brandon and Lyanna and Benjen, and of growing up with Robert under the watchful eye of Jon Arryn. But now Jon Arryn was dead, and Brandon and Lyanna were dead, too, and Benjen was off somewhere up north doing border patrol, and all he had was Robert, but it wasn't like it used to be. Not even close. 

So when Jon brought Sam home as usual, and Robb and Sansa asked to bring home their new friends, it reminded him what it was like to be young again. He'd been wary of both Daenerys and Sandor's last names, of course, but Daenerys had proved herself to be quite charming and nothing like her father, while Sandor was surely nothing like his brother, although Ned wasn't one hundred percent sold on the boy just yet. 

At Thanksgiving dinner Ned smiled when he looked down the table from his seat at the head, and saw every seat occupied. To his right was Catelyn, and next to her Edmure, Lysa, little Robert, and Brynden. To his left was Benjen, Robb, and Theon. Sansa sat in between Sandor and Daenerys, Jon was next to Arya, Sam, and Rickon, and Bran had rolled his wheelchair up to the foot of the table. They said grace, and dug into the delicious food before them.

Ned watched his children as they ate. Sandor seemed to be spending far too much time looking at Sansa, and he felt a surge of fatherly overprotectiveness. Arya was laughing with her little brothers, Theon and Robb were being entertained by Benjen, Brynden, and Edmure, and Catelyn was deep I conversation with her sister. He noticed Jon glancing at Daenerys every so often—she would either catch his eye or look at him just as he looked away—and wondered what was going on there. _"I hope he hasn't gone and broken up with that redhead. I liked her; something about her reminded me of Lyanna."_

Later, when everyone had moved from the dining room to the living room for dessert and after dinner drinks, Ned approached Robb and Theon.

"Hey, Dad," Robb smiled, "What's up?"

"Did something happen between Jon and Daenerys?" he asked the boys.

"Jon and _Daenerys_? Are you sure you don't mean Ygritte, Dad?"

"I'm sure."

"She's way out of his league," Theon added, "but I think he is currently broken up with Ygritte. They break up all the time. Maybe Jon hooked up with Daenerys or something."

Ned chuckled inwardly. _"Just like her big brother—chasing after the Starks."_ "Well I hope Jon would have better judgment than that."

"It's Jon," Robb said, as if that explained everything, "Who knows with him?"

"Any other Aegon's gossip you need to know about, Mr. Stark?" Theon asked, "I thought the teachers knew all this stuff already."

"One more question: Sansa isn't... _with_ Sandor is she?"

"Sansa and _The Hound_?" Theon said incredulously, smiling. That boy was always smiling. "As if!"

Ned breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's with Harrold Hardyng, Dad. Seriously, why don't you know this stuff?"

"Seven hells, not another boyfriend!" Ned grimaced, remembering the last one. 


	32. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, Sansa's POV during the much-anticipated Brotherhood Without Banners concert!

_"Harry. Harry Harry Harry. Your boyfriend's name is Harry. You_ like _Harry,"_ Sansa repeated his name like a mantra as she clutched the steering wheel of her father's van way too tightly, glancing over at Sandor in the passenger's seat way too many times than she should have as they drove south to Portland for the Brotherhood Without Banners concert.

 _See something you like, little bird? Why are you always so hateful? So Joffrey is Margaery's Beast but who's your knight in shining armor? Not today, Trant._ Harry. _If you say so, little bird. There are no true knights. I won't hurt you._ Harry. _It's a date. But there is something that you'll have to do in return. There's a lot you don't know about me. Little bird. Little bird. Little bird._ Harry. Harry Harry Harry. _Sandor._

She began talking absentmindedly about football season, playfully bantering with Sandor about whether the Giants or the Patriots were better. The radio was on, and "Creep" by Radiohead was playing on Sansa's favorite station.

Soon enough, they were at the concert venue. Their seats were good—they were in the middle a few rows back from the stage. Sansa was ecstatic. She couldn't believe she would be seeing Berric Dondarrion and Thoros Myr and the rest of the Brotherhood live. 

The concert began. Sansa grinned up at Sandor as the band started with their classic hit "The Rains of Castamere." She sang along to every song, and even Sandor eventually joined in with her. The band played all of their favorites: "The Day They Hanged Black Robin," "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," and "The Dornishman's Wife."

"This is gonna be the last song of the night," Berric announced, "and it's one of my personal favorites. Here's 'Six Maids in a Pool!'"

"Oh this is my favorite, too!" Sansa squealed, "Don't you just love all the songs about Florian and Jonquil, Sandor?"

"A fool and his cunt is what it should be called. Spare me," Sandor said bitterly, "I like their other stuff better."

Sansa frowned. _"He'll always see me as a silly little girl with her head in the clouds, won't he?"_

Nevertheless, Sansa couldn't help but sing along to her favorite song. She looked over at Sandor, who seemed to be contemplating about the lyrics. He met Sansa's gaze with a sly grin and suddenly she was standing on her tiptoes and kissing him and he was kissing her back and the people around them were whistling and catcalling while Berric sang on.

 _"But there is something that you'll have to do in return."_ Sansa could hear Petyr's voice in her head clear as day, and she pulled away from Sandor, startled by her rash actions. 

Sandor was staring at her with glimmering eyes in the semidarkness. He looked so happy it broke her heart.

"Sandor I'm so sorry I don't know what came over me," she apologized.

"There's no need to apologize little b—"

"Yes, there is. I'm with Harry now. I shouldn't have kissed you. And my name is Sansa."

"Thank you, and goodnight!" Berric and Thoros called to the crowd, and people began to leave. 

Sandor was still staring at Sansa, but the happy glimmer in his eyes was gone. He had his mask back on, and it was not Sandor Clegane who stood before her, but the Hound. "Well then I guess that's that, _Sansa_ ," he said, and was silent. 

He remained silent as they left the concert and was silent the whole ride back to Bangor. Sansa had never hated herself more than she did then. She wanted to cry. _I'm just a stupid girl who never learns._

She couldn't sleep that night because she kept replaying her last conversation with Sandor over and over in her head. The worst part was that Harry was a great guy. He was handsome and charming and funny and good at sports and he was no Joffrey. He was about as perfect as a teen boy could be. But he wasn't Sandor. 


	33. Jon

Ygritte texted him the Monday night before classes restarted following Thanksgiving break. "Laundry room at 7?"

"See you then," he texted back, thinking about their most recent breakup, and what he'd done with Daenerys afterwards. 

Jon eased open the laundry room door and saw a blonde girl sitting on the washing machine.

"Oh, sorry to bother you!" he blushed and turned to leave. 

The blonde tilted her head and looked at Jon. It was Ygritte. 

" _Ygritte_? What in seven hells did you do to your _hair_?" he practically yelled. 

"What?" She fluffed her blonde curls, "Don't you like it?"

"But you-you were kissed by fire—lucky!"

"I thought you liked blondes, Jon?" she pouted in confusion, "Or was it was golf courses? Maybe both?"

Jon's heart sank in his chest and he swallowed, hard. "Ygritte, we were-I was-how did you find out?"

"The girlfriend _always_ finds out."

"Ygritte I'm sorry. I know it's no excuse but I was drunk and we'd just broken up and Daenerys was just _there_ and it happened but it won't happen again I'm so sorry Ygritte I promise." Jon was rambling. 

To his surprise, she smiled. "I know. And anyways the first time we broke up I slept with Mance Rayder," she said, sliding off of the washing machine. 

"Mance Rayder who got fired last year?"

"Daenerys the Targaryen girl?" She mimicked his tone.

"Touché. So. Does this mean we're a couple again?"

"I suppose it does."

Ygritte leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped her. "But why'd you dye your hair?"

"Like I said, I thought you liked blondes."

"I liked it better red," he sighed.

"Then you know nothing Jon Snow," she grinned, pulling off the blonde wig and letting her red curls tumble out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how did you like Ygritte's "revenge"???


	34. Tyrion

Over the course of the two weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, Tyrion noticed a change in Sansa. She was doing well in his class and all of her other ones, she claimed to enjoy managing the boys' varsity hockey team, and Margaery appeared to be the ideal roommate, but she still seemed unhappy. He wondered if her unhappiness had anything to do with that new boyfriend of hers. She'd never mentioned Harry to him at all before they started dating, and Tyrion and Sansa talked about almost everything. He just hoped Harry was as nice to Sansa as he was to everyone else. 

"Hey, Margaery, can we talk in my office after school today?" he asked his student after her roommate had already left history for her next class. 

"Sure," she said slowly, "Am I in trouble?

"No! No, you're not in trouble," he paused, "just bring Daenerys with you, and Jeyne Poole. Don't bring Sansa."

"Way to be suspicious, Mr. Lannister," she chuckled, leaving the room, "I'll see ya later! No Sansa!"

Tyrion was waiting in his office when Margaery arrived promptly after the end of the class day, Jeyne Poole and Daenerys Targaryen in tow. They seated themselves in front of his desk and looked at him expectantly. Tyrion couldn't help but notice how positively radiant Daenerys looked in a red and black floral skater dress, her hair done up in milkmaid braids that looped gracefully around her head.

"So," he began, clearing his throat, "I had you all come here today to talk about Sansa."

"Is she in trouble?" Jeyne looked worried.

"You tell me. She hasn't seemed like herself since Thanksgiving break, and it's been reminding me a bit of what she was like last year when—"

"It's not Joffrey, Mr. Lannister, I've made sure he hasn't run into Sansa at all outside of class," Margaery assured him. 

"I assumed as much. But Sansa is dating Harrold Hardyng now, correct?" The girls nodded assent. "He seems nice enough, but I don't really know him and I thought there might be a chance he's abusing her. Has she said anything?"

The girls looked at each other. "Harry's definitely not abusing her," Jeyne said, "but...their relationship just happened so _suddenly_ and, like, I didn't even know she knew him or anything! I don't know, she just doesn't seem as happy as she should be for being with the 'perfect guy.'" 

Daenerys had been quiet the whole time. "What do you think, Daenerys?" he asked softly. 

"It's Sandor," Daenerys said sadly, "He and Sansa had a falling out over break—Sandor and I both stayed with the Starks—and she's just been miserable ever since. I didn't know they were so close."

 _"The plot thickens,"_ Tyrion thought. "Well that explains some of it, I guess. Hopefully they'll make up and Sansa will be herself again. Thanks for coming in—I just worry about Sansa sometimes."

"So do we, Mr. Lannister," Jeyne said as she and Margaery got up to leave. 

Daenerys remained in her seat until the girls had gone. "So what really happened with Sansa and Sandor?" Tyrion asked her. 

Daenerys smiled. "I knew you'd ask that," she said, and launched into the whole story of the concert, the kiss, and Sansa's apologetic rejection. 

Tyrion eyebrows were knit tightly together by the end of the story. "Ouch," was all he could think to say. 

"It's just so obvious that they like each other, you know?" Daenerys lamented, "And I just don't understand why she's with Harry. I know she mentioned something about how Mr. Baelish scared off Joffrey's goons before they could attack her again once, and then it was like the next day that she was walking back with Harry. It's weird."

The gears in Tyrion's head were turning, and things were clicking into place. "Mr. Baelish, huh? That is weird." He decided not to say anything to Daenerys until he had more evidence that Littlefucker had made some sort of deal with his favorite advisee. A deal that seemed to involve Harrold Hardying. 

"I think it's really sweet how much you worry about her," Daenerys's luminous violet eyes met his. 

"And I think it's really sweet how much _you_ worry about her."

Daenerys Targaryen looked at him differently than she usually did, like she was seeing him in a new light. "You're a good guy, Mr. Lannister," she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, "I don't know where any of us would be without you."

He could've kissed her, then, but of course, he didn't. _Sometimes I wonder the same thing myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dany's outfit inspiration:  
> http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w401BxWmNjg/T-v5kGoqdcI/AAAAAAAAC0U/1vHS9UErizY/s1600/DSC_0221.JPG
> 
> Dany's hair inspiration:  
> http://cdn2.thegloss.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Elle-Fanning-Heidi-Braid.jpg


	35. Jaime

Since Thanksgiving night, Jaime and Brienne had been having sex every chance they got. No one save for Tyrion knew, and they had decided to keep it a secret until they figured everything out. Besides, the students and faculty had enough to gossip about already. 

"Why have _you_ been in such a good mood?" Oberyn asked him at lunch a week after Thanksgiving. Oberyn, Tyrion, Petyr, and Ellaria were sitting at their usual corner table in the largest dining hall. "Shouldn't you be busy writing an exam or something?"

"I'm only a coach, remember? No exams!" Jaime grinned. All of his teacher friends had been as miserable as the students all week, trying to write exams for the impending first semester finals. 

"I bet he got laid," Ellaria smiled coyly. 

Petyr nodded his head in agreement. "So who was it? I bet it was a student. Jeyne Poole, perhaps? Or Daenerys Targaryen?"

Jaime noticed Tyrion's eyes narrow at the mention of Daenerys. He'd been looking suspiciously at Petyr all of lunch.

"You caught me," Jaime gave an easy smile, "but it wasn't a student. I fucked a girl Thanksgiving night—and several times after. That's it."

"Well who is she?" Oberyn asked. 

"You wouldn't know her." Tyrion was suddenly overcome with a fit of coughing, and nearly choked on his pizza. "Everything all right, little brother?" Jaime tried to glare at Tyrion as inconspicuously as possible. 

"Oh yes, just peachy," Tyrion said lazily, "just coughing, is all."

"Well maybe we can meet this girl, if things get serious," Ellaria proposed. 

Tyrion began violently coughing again; while the rest of the table was busy looking at his brother, Jaime gave Tyrion a fierce look, dragging one finger in a line across his neck. 

"Yeah," Jaime said weakly, "maybe."

Neither Brienne not Jaime was on duty that night, so Jaime took it as an opportunity to sneak over to Brienne's apartment during study hall.

"Oberyn was wondering why I was in such a good mood today at lunch, and Ellaria just knew right away it was because I was getting laid. That girl is insane," Jaime told Brienne as he laid in bed next to her, holding her against his chest. 

"Oh really?" Brienne chuckled, "And what did you say?"

"That I had sex with a girl on Thanksgiving and it's been happening often ever since. Tyrion almost blew it, but he didn't." Jaime kissed Brienne's bare shoulder.

"Good. I'm just not ready for all the jokes from everyone else in addition to Tyrion just yet." She smiled, turning to face Jaime. 

"Yeah, me too."

"Or for the Fab Four to harass me about my sex life, which they already do anyways."

"Who's the Fab Four?"

"Who do you think? Sansa, Daenerys, Margaery, and Jeyne Poole. They're relentless—and it goes both ways. I know _way_ more than I need to about what your dear nephew does every night from seven to eight—or rather, _whom_."

"Wow Brienne, way to kill the mood," Jaime said in mock disgust, "Although I've always got Robb and Theon on my case. Did you know Robb gave Jeyne Westerling a promise ring?"

"No!" Brienne exclaimed, "That's adorable! I bet he really will marry her someday."

"I bet he will. I also think my brother has a crush on Daenerys."

"You're fucking with me!"

"I would never! Although I do enjoy fuck _ing_ you," Jaime said slyly, covering her lips with his and rolling on top of her. 

After Brienne had fallen asleep, Jaime got up, dressed quickly, and left her faculty apartment, to sneak back to Dragonstone before anyone noticed he was gone. He eased shut the door to Brienne's apartment, and began walking away, but stopped when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Turning around, he saw none other than Jeyne Poole emerging from the bathroom in her pajamas, catching Jaime with his one hand still on Brienne's doorknob, hair disheveled, and clothes buttoned improperly. Jeyne's face lit up and she grinned like the Cheshire Cat. 

"Oh, Mr. Lannister, you are _so_ busted," she said, before practically skipping down the hall back to her room.

"Well fuck," Jaime said aloud, continuing down the hall in the opposite direction, "so much for keeping it a secret."


	36. Bran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Bran's POV, as requested!

Bran had only met the Reeds at the beginning of the school year—Jojen had been assigned as his freshman year roommate—but both Jojen and his older sister Meera had quickly become his closest friends. His father had been thrilled—Howland Reed was an old friend, and the Reeds lived not too far away from Bangor, in Portland. 

Bran's siblings were always joking about the "weird shit" he did with Jojen and Meera, and they were right. It was with them that Bran had first smoked a joint, gotten drunk, had sex (with both Jojen and Meera, but not at the same time), tripped on acid, and made a Tumblr. Most of this had occurred in Aegon's Academy's large garden, called the Godswood. Bran would always smile to himself whenever Theon bragged about his latest conquest or how wasted he'd gotten over the weekend, because Bran had most likely done anything Theon had done—and more frequently. 

The three friends were sitting in their favorite spot in the Godswood, near the pond where they occasionally went skinny dipping. Jojen was talking about his dreams, which he did often, because they always came true, albeit not always in the way one might expect. 

"One of my dreams last night was about a lion holding a field hockey stick that was encrusted with sapphires," Jojen said, "I have no clue what that's about." 

"Haven't you heard?" Meera asked, "Mr. Lannister's been screwing Ms. Tarth!"

"Well that would explain it," Jojen agreed, "and my other dream was about a hound that fell in love with a little bird. They were both so unhappy until they found each other, but then a mockingbird came and stole the little bird away, and the hound wept and wept. Finally the little bird came back to the hound and they were happy, even though terrible things would always happen to them. Any idea what that's about?"

"Nope," said Meera, looking confused. 

"No clue," said Bran. 

They whiled away the afternoon in the Godswood, passing around a blunt and talking about nonsense. Bran loved being with the Reeds, because even confined to his wheelchair, they made him feel free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whose POV would you like to see next? (The next chapters will probably be something in the context of exam week)


	37. Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, the reactions to Jaime and Brienne's now-public relationship!

The teasing began immediately. Jaime had dashed back to Brienne’s apartment right after his encounter with Jeyne to tell her that their cover was blown, and by morning the news had spread throughout the entire population of Aegon’s Academy—adults, students, and faculty brats alike all knew about Jaimienne, the clever nickname the Fab Four had devised.

Throughout the day, many of the students had whistled and catcalled as she passed them in the hallways, and more than one girl had told her to “Get it, Ms. Tarth!”  For once, Brienne was thankful that she and Jaime had different lunch blocks. 

At hockey practice, the boys were leaving the ice as the girls were lacing up their skates, and Jaime and Brienne had both been on the ice.  Suddenly, “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” was blasting from the huge speakers in the ceiling, and Brienne was alone on the ice with Jaime.

“Kiss!” one of the boys called, their faces pressed up against the Plexiglas surrounding the rink—it sounded like Theon Greyjoy.

Jaime rolled his eyes and made to skate off the ice, but was stopped by a growing chant of “Kiss! Kiss!  Kiss!”  Brienne’s girls had joined in, and even Sansa and Jeyne, the boys’ managers, were cheering with the crowd. 

Shrugging his shoulders and flashing Brienne a most devilish grin, Jaime sped over to her and kissed her full on the lips, in front of everyone, spinning her around on the ice. The hurrahs of the crowd were deafening.

They broke away, Jaime took a bow, and Brienne grinned sheepishly at the crowd.

“I love you,” Jaime whispered.

“I love you, too,” Brienne whispered back—really meaning it—for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Theon, and after that, probably Ned!


	38. Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I always seem to write about what the girls do together, here's what happens in Theon, Robb, and Sandor's room!

Exam week was finally over, thank the gods. Beginning with History on Friday, there had been an exam every day—including the fucking English exam on Sunday afternoon. Now, it was Tuesday night—the last exam, Math, had been that morning—and all Theon had to worry about now was packing for Christmas break and showing up at each of his classes for about twenty minutes per class the next day. This was his final exam week at Aegon's, as hard as that was for him to believe. Graduation was the Sunday before exam week began in the spring.

Theon and his roommates had decided to celebrate in the best way they knew how that night, after lights out: with beer and general raucousness. Robb and Theon had been hiding beer inside their beat up grey couch since sophomore year, and this year was no different.

"Tonight," Robb declared, taking a swig of his drink, "is about us, being seniors, and not giving a fuck about anything anymore!"

"Fuck our classes!" Sandor agreed, raising his bottle in the air, "And fuck girls," he finished bitterly. 

"Fuck as many girls as possible!" Theon added. 

"Unless you're me and you love your girlfriend and fucking her is all you need," Robb laughed. 

"Fuck off, Robb," Theon said, "not all of us can be Mr. Perfect like you, bro."

"Ain't that the truth," said Sandor. 

Theon threw and arm around Sandor's shoulders. "Sandor and Theon: Single and Failing to Mingle. We could have a reality show."

"Fuck yeah," Sandor agreed.

"Why is it," Theon sat on the couch, pulling out another beer, "that all the best girls are either taken, not interested, or are your best friend's little sister ?"

Robb glared at Theon. "No, Theon, you can't ask Sansa out. And even if I gave you permission, she'd never say yes. You hooked up with her best friend, dude."

At the mention of Sansa, Sandor looked pained. "I guess you're right," Theon conceded, "What about Dany?" 

"Never gonna happen," Sandor and Robb said simultaneously. 

"Oh so you think that's funny, huh, Sandor?" Theon was playfully irate, "How many girls have you done shit with this year?"

"One," Sandor admitted.

Robb and Theon looked at Sandor incredulously. _"Who?"_ they asked, "And how far did you go?" 

"Some girl kissed me at a concert," he said, looking as if the memory wasn't a happy one. "That's all we did. She freaked out after and kept apologizing. Totally boosted my self-esteem." He let out a hollow chuckle. 

"Well forget about that bitch!" Robb decreed, "We can find you someone better here!"

"You'd do that for Sandor but not for me?" Theon was mildly appalled. 

"Sandor isn't trying to get with my sister."

Sandor must've swallowed his beer down the wrong pipe, because he suddenly began coughing. 

"Okay, so let's see. There's always—"

The dorm room door burst open, and the boys only had time to stick their beer bottles behind their backs. The Imp's small figure was at the door. 

"It's after lights out, boys, so if you're not packing you have to go to bed," he said, bored, before his eyes alighted on a partially exposed six pack that had been hastily shoved under the bed. 

"Mr. Lannister I can explain we were just—" Robb began to explain. Robb Stark, head monitor, tri-varsity captain, and son of the Assistant Headmaster could _not_ be caught violating the school's strict drug and alcohol policy. 

"Share them with me and I won't tell," the Imp said, shutting the door and sitting on the couch. 

The boys grinned, and Theon passed Tyrion a beer. "Have I ever told you what an awesome guy you are, Mr. Lannister?" It couldn't hurt to be a brown-noser, could it?

"No, you haven't, Mr. Greyjoy, because it's not the truth," Tyrion shot back, opening his drink. 

"What should we toast to, Mr. Lannister?" Robb asked. 

"To being in love with girls who are out of your league!" Tyrion thrust his bottle in the air. 

"Here, here!" Sandor agreed, "And to random girls at concerts that ruin a guy's self-esteem."

Theon noticed Tyrion eye Sandor strangely at that comment, but he quickly forgot the thought. "To best friends with hot sisters that you aren't allowed to hook up with!" Theon exclaimed. 

"Sansa would be off-limits even if she wasn't Robb's sister. She's _my_ advisee, Theon."

"Does Mr. Lannister have a crush on the lovely Sansa Stark?" Theon joked. 

"Well she's beautiful, of course, but alas, no." 

"I'm want to kill myself," Robb muttered. 

Sandor's lip twitched.

"I need a girl in my life," Theon moaned. 

"Well until that happens you're stuck with the three of us," Robb chided him. 

"Yeah, but none of _you_ are gonna give me blowjob in the laundry room," Theon pouted. 

"Oh, the things I've done in that laundry room," Tyrion mused.

"Hey we should play a game!" Robb suggested, "How about truth or dare?"

"What are we, twelve-year-old girls at a bloody tea party?" Sandor was amused by Robb's suggestion. 

"How about never have I ever?" Tyrion prompted. 

"Sure," the boys agreed. 

"Never have I ever kissed a boy," Tyrion began. 

Theon glanced quickly at Robb and they both took a swig of their drinks. 

"Never have I ever," Sandor paused, thinking of something to say, "Hooked up with a girl in a classroom."

Tyrion, Robb, and Theon all drank. "I hope none of you hook up in _my_ classroom," Tyrion muttered, "I'm terrified to shine a black light around the room. God knows what I'd find."

Theon looked sheepishly at the floor. "Never have I ever done anything with a friend's sister," he said. Only Sandor took a drink. 

"Does your friend know?" Tyrion asked, a malicious gleam in his eye, like he knew more than he was letting on.

"No," Sandor answered honestly, "and I intend to keep it that way."

It was Robb's turn. "Never have I ever...had a threesome."

Tyrion attempted to take a sip before anyone noticed, but Sandor caught him. "Holy shit, what was it like?" Sandor asked. 

Tyrion had a dreamy look in his eyes. "Amazing."

The game continued. Tyrion finished his beer first—the Imp was kinkier than Theon had realized—and Theon was a close second. Robb and Sandor had barely done anything compared to the other two. 

"Jeyne needs to step up her game," Theon teased. 

"Ooh, burn," Tyrion said. 

By two the next morning, everyone was shitfaced drunk. Theon drifted off into a light sleep. The next morning, when everyone woke up with a pounding headache. Robb had managed to make it into bed, Sandor was sprawled across the floor, and Tyrion Lannister was passed out on the couch. Theon couldn't remember much of the past night, but he vaguely remembered a very drunk Sandor holding an even drunker Tyrion as they cried about Daenerys and Sansa. _Was it Dany and Sansa? Or was it someone else?_ Theon couldn't be sure. 

One thing was certain, though: they were lucky as fuck to have Tyrion Lannister as their next-door-neighbor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was pretty unrealistic as far as prep schools go, but I thought it was more in-character to have Tyrion join the boys instead of ratting rhem out. I hope you liked it!


	39. Ned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A look at the goings-on of the Aegon's Academy Board of Directors

After his first period AP Bio class, Ned was free to spend the rest of the day waiting for his children to get out of class so they could return home to Maine for Christmas break. Christmas at the Stark household was the same every year. They would drive down to Manchester, Vermont the day before Christmas Eve, and stay with Catelyn's family until New Year's. Ned would've loved to stay home and do nothing all break, but he loved Cat and Cat loved her family. So he went. Lysa and that boy of hers drove him insane, he had nothing in common with Edmure, and Hoster's Alzheimer's got worse every year. Brynden was the only one he actually enjoyed seeing. _"If only Jon Arryn was still with us,"_ he wished, the same way he had every day since the man had died.

 Ned was lounging in the leather chair behind the mahogany desk in his office, staring at the pictures on his desk. Front and center was a framed photograph of him and Cat with their children (and Jon and Theon), standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. To the right was a picture of his wedding day and to the left stood an old framed picture of him, his parents, Brandon, Benjen, and Lyanna. They were all young in the picture—Brandon was about nine and Benjen was a baby in his mother's arms. Hidden away in the top drawer of Ned's desk—which was always kept locked—was his favorite picture of all. The photograph itself was worn around the edges, and the image had faded slightly over the years. It had been taken when Ned was in high school. Jon Arryn stood next to Ned, an easy grin on his face. Robert Baratheon was also in the picture, his arm thrown around Ned's shoulders, though at the precise moment the picture had been taken, Robert's eyes were elsewhere. Lyanna was partially visible in the background, apparently in heated conversation with Rhaegar Targaryen. Ned didn't know why he loved the picture so much, but he attributed it to being a physical version one of the last happy memories he had before everything went wrong.

Varys drifted into the room a little after nine, to give Ned the latest whisperings around campus. "My sources say your eldest son was up until all hours of the night with those roommates of his...and their friendly dorm parent," the psychology teacher said unctuously. 

"Robb or Jon?" Ned asked resignedly.

The man whom the school had nicknamed The Spider seemed amused that Ned bothered to ask if it had been Jon. Somehow, Ned assumed, Varys knew the truth. "Robb, of course."

"Robb is head mon, makes honor roll every semester, and is captain of the football, hockey, and crew teams. I raised the boy to be honorable. I'm sure whatever he was doing was innocent," Ned assured Varys.

"As it pleases you, Eddard," The Spider said solemnly, bowing slightly before slipping out of the office.

Petyr Baelish made his appearance shortly after Varys left, to discuss academic plans for the next semester. Ned was not a fan of his wife’s childhood friend.  The way he looked at Cat, and the way he now looked at Sansa was repulsive to say the least. Petyr said nothing of importance the entire time he was in Ned’s office, but managed to insult Ned, Ned’s family, and Ned’s qualifications for his position as assistant principal no less than twelve times before he finally left with a forced “Have a nice break!”

A while later Cersei Lannister-Baratheon swept into Ned’s office.  Ned cringed before greeting her as pleasantly as he could.  Sometimes he thought Cersei was even worse than Varys and Baelish.

“Cersei!  What a lovely surprise!  How can I help you?”

“Enough with the formalities, Ned. I’m here to discuss Joff. I don’t approve of his new roommate—that Waters boy, you know—and I am insisting that he be placed with someone else for the next semester,” she got straight to the point.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Cersei. We’re overenrolled as it is this year, and unless the boys are having serious issues, there’s nothing I can do about it.  Take it up with Pycelle—he’s the Director of Admissions.” 

“Everyone on the Board of Directors is useless,” she hissed, taking her leave.

When Oberyn Martell entered around eleven, Ned sighed in relief.  He’d been wary of the raucous Long Islander at first, but Oberyn had become one of his favorite fellow faculty members.  And his children adored their gregarious Spanish teacher and Dean of Students.

“What can I do for you today, Oberyn?” he asked pleasantly.

“I was just coming by to tell you that Arya’s score on my Honors Spanish II exam was the top grade in the class. The girl has a real talent for languages, Ned,” Oberyn smiled.

“That’s wonderful! I know Arya isn’t always the most… _academic_ member of the family.”

Oberyn let out a hearty chuckle. “I was the same way myself,” he said, before wishing Ned a happy, relaxing break and departing.

Ned was still in a good mood when Robert found his way into the office shortly before the end of the class day.

“Ned!  I’m here to talk about your daughter and my son,” Robert boomed, plopping onto the squashy armchair in front of the desk. 

“Sansa and Joffrey broke up ages ago,” Ned was confused.

“No, no!  Your other daughter, Arya!  And my… _other_ son,” he clarified.

 _“Arya and Gendry certainly are popular subjects for discussion today,”_ Ned mused.  He hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of Arya being in a serious relationship as a freshman—seriousness just wasn’t in her nature, and the boy was older—but he’d grown to love Gendry.  The boy was ignorant of his parentage, but it comforted Ned to know that it was possible for Robert to become a part of his family for real, without either of his daughters being subject to the monstrous Joffrey.

“Oh, yes, Arya and Gendry!” Ned said.

“I didn’t know they were together! Why didn’t you tell me? You know how much I’ve always loved Arya.”

“I didn’t know you _knew_ Arya,” Ned raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“I know her well enough,” Robert was suddenly sad, “She reminds me of _Lyanna_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I ship Robert and Lyanna. Like, a *lot*.  
> P.P.S. What kind of Christmas Break stuff do you want? Like whose POVs and what shenanigans?


	40. Catelyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, Catelyn's POV!  
> Let the Yuletide hijinks commence!

Christmas had been Catelyn's favorite holiday for as long as she could remember. She had many fond memories of Christmases past growing up in Manchester. And now, as an adult, she loved to return home with her own children every year. Edmure had replaced her father as CEO of Orvis, but their luxurious mansion on the banks of the Battenkill was just as she remembered it. 

It pained Cat to see her father's memory so rapidly deteriorating. He barely even recognized her when she went to visit him, but even so she remained by his bedside while the rest of her family went skiing. They returned in time for dinner, with rosy cheeks and happy smiles. It warmed her heart—she worried about all of them. 

She worried about Ned the most, and if it were up to her, she would never allow him to be so far from home most of the year—she wanted to be near her whole family, not just Rickon, but Ned was only doing his job. Family, duty, honor, she reminded herself. 

Often, Sansa worried Catelyn more than Ned. She was only a girl in Cat's eyes—forced to grow up too quickly. After the Joffrey ordeal, Cat couldn't help but wonder if he was leaving her daughter alone—Sansa would never admit it if he wasn't. The Tyrell girl seemed like a good friend, but the Tyrells were notorious social climbers and they stank of new money. They owned a condo at the Equinox Resort, and Sansa was already spending most of her time with Margaery and that flamboyant brother of hers. Harrold Hardying was another worry. Sansa claimed to be happy with her new boyfriend, but something was troubling her, Cat could tell. A mother always understands what a child doesn't say. 

Robb was ever the perfect child. Everything in his life seemed to be going well, and yet Catelyn worried that _he_ worried too much about taking care of his "family," those related by blood and otherwise, with whom he surrounded himself. 

Cat had been worrying about Bran every day since his accident—and even more now that he had begun his first year of high school—but he seemed to be doing just fine. Once, he'd come home and Cat could've sworn he smelled of pot, but she pushed the thought away. Bran was he sweet little boy, and he always would be. At least in her eyes. 

Arya was the only one that Catelyn never worried about. The girl was just like her aunt—that's what everyone said—and she knew how to take care of herself. And her boyfriend really seemed to care about her. 

As she settled into bed next to Ned on Christmas Eve, Catelyn couldn't help but smile. She was always at her best with her family around her, home at last. 


	41. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates at once because I have waaaay too many ideas for the upcoming chapters!

Sandor had never been to Vermont before in his life—let alone gone skiing—and now he found himself at the top of a mountain next to Joffrey, determined not to make a fool out of himself. Sandor knew the only reason he'd even been invited to spend Christmas break at the Baratheon's winter home in Manchester was because Trant, Blount, and Oakheart couldn't come, and he was Joffrey's last choice. Still, it was better than Christmas with Gregor. 

By the end of the day, Sandor realized he actually liked skiing, and was pretty decent at it. Joffrey and Sandor left the mountain and were getting coffee at the local coffee shop, when a group of skiers entered—a redheaded girl, and a brunette boy and girl, giggling about something as they got in line. 

"Margaery!" Joffrey called, recognizing his girlfriend as the brunette. 

Sandor's heart leapt into his throat as the group turned and he saw that along with Margaery was her brother Loras, and none other than the little bird herself. 

_"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,"_ Sandor cursed internally as her blue eyes met his. She looked like a fucking deer caught in the headlights of a car. _"On vacation and now she gets to see her two favorite people on the world,"_ he thought bitterly, hating himself for not being able to hate her. 

"Hey, guys!" Margaery exclaimed, sitting down at their table with the rest of her posse, "What a lovely surprise!"

_Shut the fuck up, Tyrell, don't act like you didn't know your precious boyfriend would be in Vermont over break._

"I didn't know you guys were coming here for break, too," Sansa said wanly, fidgeting with her coffee cup and unable to stop looking from Sandor to Joffrey to Margaery and Loras. 

"My father owns a house up here, I thought you knew that," Joffrey said snidely. Sandor wanted to punch him.

"Oh...yes, I think my dad mentioned that once."

"Well, we better get going," Margaery sensed the mounting tension, "But we're all having dinner at Garlic John's tonight—you should come!"

"We'll be there," Joffrey promised, kissing his girlfriend goodbye. 

Sansa glanced shyly at Sandor. "See you tonight," she said softly. 

_Well this ought to be bloody fucking awkward._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the places mentioned are real places in Manchester, Vermont! It's a really cool place and I highly recommend going there if you're ever in the New England area!


	42. Tyrion

Christmas this year had been interesting to say the least. Somehow, Jaime had convinced Brienne to spend Christmas with the Lannister-Baratheon clan in Manchester. Tyrion suspected lots of sex had been involved in influencing Brienne's decision. Tyrion pitied Brienne for his family's inevitably unfriendly welcome, but decided it would be nice to have two people he didn't hate at the dinner table instead of the usual one. Shireen and Renly didn't count. Everyone liked them.

"So this must be the lovely Brienne I've been hearing so much about," Tyrion's father had said by way of greeting, in a manner that suggested he didn't think her lovely at all.

"It's great to meet you, Mr. Lannister," Brienne said nervously, shaking his hand as Jaime squeezed hers affectionately. 

"Come, sit," he'd said, leading them into the living room like he owned the place. Tyrion had driven up from Connecticut with Jaime and Brienne. He'd enjoyed their company, but couldn't help but wish he had a girlfriend to bring home as well. _If only Daenerys wasn't so young, and I wasn't so ugly._

Christmas dinner was sufficiently awkward, and almost worse than Thanksgiving. Robert was tipsy at the beginning of the meal and shitfaced by the time one of the servants brought out Cersei's "homemade" Christmas pudding. Everyone knew that one of the servants made it, but somehow no one ever questioned Cersei. 

Cersei, as expected, spent the entire meal glaring at Brienne and Jaime, saying anything she could to embarrass them. When she tired of that, she turned to Tyrion, but he'd learned to tune her out ages ago. 

Renly spent the entire time smiling into his lap—texting Loras, probably. He excused himself to go to the bathroom after bolting down a slice of ham, and never returned. 

Stannis looked vaguely uncomfortable, as always, and Tyrion couldn't help but wonder if Selyse knew how... _familiar_ her husband was with Melisandre Asshai, the beautiful theology teacher. 

Joffrey was next to Sandor Clegane, talking the poor kid's ear off. His good ear, that is. _I'm such an asswipe._

Tyrion still had mixed feelings about the young Clegane boy. In Tyrion's mind, he had made Sandor the scapegoat for Sansa's melancholiness, but after their wild drunken night he felt like he had a stronger bond with his student. 

Everyone seemed busy, so Tyrion entertained himself by talking to Shireen. 

"So how's that roommate of yours?" he asked. 

"Arya is great," the corners of her eyes crinkled sweetly as she smiled, "We have a lot of fun together."

"Not too much fun, I hope. School isn't supposed to be fun."

"Yeah okay, Tyrion," she ignored him when he tried to correct her, "You'd rather be at school right now, too, and you know it."

The girl had a point.

The day after Christmas, when Tyrion thought the torturous family dinners were over, Joffrey came home announcing that they would all be going out to dinner at Garlic John's the following night. _Thank god for Italian restaurants and their wine selections._

When the maître d' found out that Catelyn _Tully_ —"yes of _the_ Tullys"—was in attendance at dinner, he practically cleared the entire restaurant to seat them. Catelyn looked like she wanted to die, but it was a good thing he did it, because they'd brought a ridiculous amount of people with them. There was Ned and Cat, their horde of children, Margaery and Loras Tyrell and their parents, plus the Lannister-Baratheons, Sandor Clegane, Jaime, Brienne, and Tyrion. 

He found himself seated between Jaime and Sansa, and across from Sandor. He'd put himself close enough to Joffrey to keep an eye on his dear nephew, although he doubted the little shit would try anything with his parents present. 

He studied Sansa the whole time, watching how she would glance at Sandor far too frequently and how more often than not he was glancing at her, too. _I don't know what she sees in him but then again she chose me to be her advisor and she dated Joffrey so maybe she's just got shitty judgment._

After dinner, everyone split up to do various things. Tyrion went to a random dive bar with Jaime and Brienne, and laughed when he saw Sansa and Margaery enter with Loras and Renly a few minutes later, discussing plans for a New Year's Eve party that the Tyrells were having. Margaery, Loras, and Renly could easily pass for over 21, and even Sansa could, with the right outfit and makeup—which she had on tonight. 

"Margaery's idea I bet," Tyrion pointed the students out to Jaime and Brienne. 

"Oh my god that idiot bartender actually let them buy drinks!" Brienne was shocked. 

"Well do they _look_ like high schoolers, Brienne?" Jaime smirked. 

"I suppose not," she conceded. 

"Tyrion I don't like that look on your face," Jaime noticed his brother's expression, "that's you're 'I'm planning something' face."

"I do _not_ have an 'I'm planning something' face!" Tyrion objected, working out the details to his plan in his mind. 

"You totally do," Brienne nodded. 

"Okay fine, I do."

"So what's the plan, little bro," Jaime was curious. 

"I'm gonna buy Loras a drink," Tyrion grinned maliciously. 

"You wouldn't!" Brienne burst out laughing. 

"Oh but I would, and I am," he waved over the bartender and ordering Loras's drink. "And now, we wait."

The three watched the bartender bring the drink over to the corner booth where the four teenagers were sitting, and tried not to be too obvious about their staring. 

"He got the drink! He got the drink!" Brienne exclaimed. "Now he's looking over here trying to figure out who the bartender just pointed to!"

"Oh shit, Renly looks pissed." It was Jaime's turn to look. "Oh _shit_ , Tyrion, Renly's coming over here!"

"Does he know it's me?" Tyrion asked. 

"I don't think so," Jaime faced back towards the bar, so as not to give themselves away just yet. 

Tyrion felt a tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me?" He heard Renly ask. 

Tyrion turned, grinning, ready to reveal himself, when suddenly Renly punched him in the face and _then_ realized just _who_ had sent his boyfriend the drink. 

"Fuck!" Renly and Tyrion both shouted, but for differing reasons. 

The rest of Renly's friends rushed over, trying to hold on their laughter, but it was in vain. Soon, Sansa, Margaery, Jaime, Brienne, and even Tyrion were laughing, with Tyrion wincing in pain (he'd have a black eye by the end of the night, for sure). Renly looked absolutely mortified. 

"Mr. Lannister, I—I didn't realize it was—I thought—some random guy and—" he struggled to make a sentence. 

"Honest mistake," Tyrion said obligingly, "but you kids really shouldn't be in here, you know."

"You're so full of shit, Tyrion," Sansa smiled, "Gods know what—or whom—you were doing when you were our age."

Sansa had him there. "Well at least let me buy the rest of you drinks. I wouldn't want to show favoritism," he winked jauntily at Loras, "maybe another time, babe." He didn't know what kind of sex-deprived mood he was in—hell, he wasn't even attracted to Loras at all—but he hadn't felt this playful in a long time, and he liked the feeling of it. 

"So is this the night I get to find out what drunk Sansa is like?" Margaery asked excitedly. 

"Maybe it is," Sansa said coyly, "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

As it turned out, Margaery got her wish. A few drinks, and Sansa was singing karaoke in front of the entire bar—Nelly Furtado's "I'm Like a Bird," which somehow was the perfect song choice for Sansa. Jaime—the designated driver—drove everyone to their respective homes, and another facet of drunk Sansa was revealed. She was a crier. The Tully mansion was the last stop before home, and Sansa was blubbering into Tyrion's shoulder. 

"B-b-but why did I _tell_ him not to call me 'little bird,' Tyrion? Why was I so m-m-mean?" She broke into a fresh round of sobs. 

"I wish I knew, my dear," he said sadly, thinking it probably had something to do with that damn Clegane boy. 

When they finally made it back to the Baratheon home, Tywin was sitting in the living room, reading a book. 

"What happened to _you_?" Tywin asked his youngest child. 

"You should see the other guy," Tyrion quipped, leaving the room as quickly as he could on his stunted legs. 


	43. Sansa

In an effort to avoid seeing Joffrey and Sandor, Sansa spent as much time with Loras and Renly as possible over break. They were poor replacements for Jeyne and Daenerys, sure, but they were entertaining as hell. Sansa soon became so comfortable around the boys that she felt she could tell them anything.

"You know, Loras, I had a _huge_ crush on you freshman year," she announced when they were all assembled in Margaery's room the day before the Tyrell's New Year's Eve party. 

Loras grinned, "Yeah I could tell."

Sansa blushed. "Was I that obvious?"

"No! Not really—yes. Yes you were. Renly was jealous."

"Jealous of _me_? I was just a dumb freshman with a crush on a cute boy." Sansa found it hard to believe that Renly could be jealous. 

"Hmm," Renly seemed to be contemplating something, "Maybe we could share Loras." He winked lasciviously at Sansa, smirking. 

"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer," she retorted, giving Renly an exaggerated once-over. 

"No!" both Tyrells exclaimed, mildly horrified. 

"I love you, Sansa, really, I do, but vaginas are fucking scary," Loras shook his head in disgust. 

"So are penises!" Sansa objected. 

"Preach it!" Margaery agreed. 

"I'm so gay," Renly sighed happily. Loras nodded his head in agreement, and Margaery almost looked like she agreed, too, but Sansa knew that couldn't be right. Margaery was dating Joffrey. She liked _boys_

Jeyne and Daenerys arrived in Manchester the next day for Margaery's party. Jeyne was staying with the Starks, and Dany with the Tyrells. 

"Sansa you will not _believe_ what's being going on back in Maine," Jeyne said to her friend. The girls had met up for lunch. 

"What happened?!" Sansa was intrigued. 

"I've been hooking up with someone!" Jeyne practically squealed. 

" _WHO_?" the other three girls exclaimed. 

"Ramsay Bolton!"

Sansa and Margaery looked at each other for a split second, surprised, before returning their attention to Jeyne. Dany just looked confused. 

"He's a senior at Aegon's," Jeyne explained, "but he lives pretty close to Bangor. He's tall, brown hair, wears a lot of pink but like in that cute Vineyard Vines-y way. You've definitely seen him around. "

"Oh okay I think I know who you're talking about," Dany said. 

"Why are you guys so quiet? He's cute, right? Be happy for me!"

"I _am_ happy for you, Jeyne! I'm glad you've moved on!" _Just not that you chose Ramsay,_ Sansa thought. 

They spent the rest of lunch talking about Ramsay and other boys and the upcoming party. 

When Sansa got to Margaery's party later that night, she couldn't even believe Mr. and Mrs. Tyrell had let her have it. The parents in question had gone out for the night, and Margaery and Loras had turned their condo into the perfect place to party. There were coolers of beer scattered around and music was blasting. It seemed like Margaery had invited nearly half the school—the house was so packed with bodies. 

Robb found Jeyne Westerling and disappeared, and Theon sauntered off to find his latest conquest. Joffrey and Sandor entered, and Joffrey immediately went to find his girlfriend. Sandor drifted over to Jon and Arya, who stood together, looking lost without their significant others. Ygritte was home in Canada for break, and Gendry was too busy working to find time to get from Boston up to Vermont. 

Sansa felt a hand on the small of her back and turned quickly, her mind automatically flashing back to her altercations with Meryn Trant.

But it was just Harry. 

"Hey, babe," he smiled, "I've missed you all break." 

"I've missed you too!" Sansa answered, looking past Harry to Sandor. 

Harry pulled his girlfriend into a kiss. He was a damn good kisser, that was for sure. Suddenly, Sansa was remembering another kiss with another boy on another break. She kissed Harry harder, trying to forget. 

After that, it seemed Sansa had only blinked before it was nearing midnight. Margaery had turned on Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve, and the crowd of teenagers were gathered around the Tyrells' huge flatscreen. The countdown began, and the ball began to drop. 

"TEN!" Harry grabbed Sansa's hand. 

"NINE!" Sansa's smile felt forced. 

"EIGHT!" _I'm worried about Jeyne being with Ramsay._

"SEVEN!" _At least Renly and Loras look happy._

"SIX!" _And Robb and Jeyne._

"FIVE!" _We need to find Dany someone so she's not lonely._

"FOUR!" She caught Sandor eyeing her from across the room and looked away blushing. 

"THREE!" _And my name is Sansa. Well then I guess that's that,_ Sansa. 

"TWO!" _But there is something that you'll have to do in return._

"ONE! Happy New Year!" She looked up and Sandor was kissing Arianne Martell. _There are no true knights._ She grabbed Harry by the jaw in a fit of passion and anger and kissed him, telling herself that she enjoyed it—that she enjoyed _him_. She almost believed it, too. Almost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo what/who would you like to read about next? (I have a few ideas but I'm curious about what all of you lovely people want!)


	44. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short, but I wanted to give you guys some more material about Sandor and Arianne!

Sandor could count on his hands the number of times he'd spoken to Arianne Martell. Junior year she'd spent half the year seducing the shy Arys Oakheart—one of Joffrey's buddies—and they'd been on and off ever since. The rest of the "Kingsguard" had just been surprised that inexperienced Arys was getting laid. 

On New Year's Eve, Sandor had been making polite conversation with Arianne. She was nice enough, and pretty enough, but not really his type. He was more into redheads. _One in particular, you damn fool._

At midnight, everyone around him was kissing somebody, and suddenly Sandor felt Arianne's lips on his own. He was shocked. 

"Sorry I just kissed you like that," she said apologetically once it was over, "it's just, Arys and I broke up before break and I was feeling sort of spiteful. You understand, right, Sandor?"

_I should've known._ "Sure, but Arys isn't even here. If you really want to make him jealous, you should let him see you with someone else."

Arianne's eyes lit up. "Sandor that's brilliant!" She kissed him again in her excitement. "I'm taking you out on a date once school starts again, okay? I'm gonna make him jealous!"

"Very forward, aren't we?" he said playfully. 

"Aw come on, Sandor, please? There must be someone you want to make jealous, too, right?"

"Yeah," he glanced over at Sansa sucking face with Harry, "I think I have someone in mind."


	45. Daenerys

"Mr. Lannister, I swear to the gods my friends will be the death of me," Dany threw her bag on the floor and flopped onto the armchair in her Latin teacher's office. She couldn't believe they were already a week as a half into the second semester of the school year. 

"Oh my gawd everyone is, like, so totally cray cray I can't even," Tyrion spoke in a girly falsetto. 

"Shut the fu—" Dany remembered that she was talking to a teacher, "shut up, Mr. Lannister! Sansa is part of this, so I know you'll be interested." She raised an eyebrow, and knew she had him wrapped around her finger. 

"Gods damn it, Daenerys! What did she do?"

"Well it's more like who she _didn't_ do." 

"If she had sex I don't want to know!" Tyrion stuck his fingers in his ears, "Lalalalala I can't heaaaarr you."

"She didn't have sex!" Dany snapped, "But Jeyne did."

"Oh. Okay. Good," he sighed with what she assumed was relief, "but Jeyne and Robb have been together forever I'm not surprised they had sex."

"No no no!" Jeyne _Poole_. And Ramsay Snow," she wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

"Jeyne is with _Ramsay_?" Tyrion was shocked, "Jeyne _Poole_?"

"Yes!" said an exasperated Dany, "and he's gross and weird and we all think they're only together because they're both obsessed with Theon!"

"Why are you telling me this stuff again? Because I really could do without knowing."

"Sansa, remember? She's the one that I'm really here for. We need to stage an intervention."

"For _what_?"

" _Because_ she's dating Harry but she's in love with Sandor who kissed Arianne Martell on New Year's Eve! That night she literally spent two and a half hours just talking about Sandor and how much she hated him!"

"So she hates Sandor. Big deal."

"No! Don't you get it? She's in love with him, Mr. Lannister! And you need to help me make SanSan—that's my couple name for them, isn't it cute?—happen!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and let the scheming commence!


	46. Arya

"But why do you need _my_ help, Dany?" Arya asked, staring questioningly at the silver-haired girl sitting on her bed. 

"Because you're Sansa's sister, and you want Sansa to be happy, right?" Dany looked frustrated. 

"I guess so. But Sansa seems pretty happy to me."

"That's because she's a good actress! She's not happy because she's dating Harry, but she's in love with Sandor! It's obvious!" Arya, however, did not think this was obvious. She liked Harry—anyone was better for Sansa than Joffrey. 

"Sandor _Clegane_? There's no way. Not my sister."

"Yeah yeah it's a beauty and the beast type thing, whatever—she's in love with him! And I need your help getting them together!"

Arya crossed her arms. "Fine. What's the plan?"

Dany grinned. "So this Saturday, Sandor and Arianne are going to Visenya's for dinner at six o'clock. I need you to—"

"How do you _know_ that?" Arya asked, impressed, because she prided herself on knowing everything that went on around campus, and she hadn't heard anything about Sandor and Arianne going on a date. 

"It pays to have Varys as an advisor! But _anyways_ I need you and Gendry to go on a double date with Sansa and Harry at Visenya's that night—you guys can go around seven so it doesn't seem obvious that it was planned—and Sansa will see Arianne moving in on her man and get super jealous! That's step one." Dany looked all together too pleased with herself. 

"Do I want to know step two?"

Dany took that as a sign to continue explaining her plan. "Step two involves Tyrion Lannister. He's gonna assign Sandor as Sansa's partner for a big history project coming up so that they're forced to spend time together. This plan is good, right?"

Arya still wasn't sold—this was real life, not a romantic comedy. "And step three?"

"Step three is...well...we'll get there when we get there," Dany quickly changed the subject, "So are you in?"

"Oh fuck it. Yeah, I'm in. I need some excitement in my life—school's been so boring this month."

Dany squealed happily and hugged Arya. "Yes! This is going to _work_ —I just know it!"

"Whatever you say, Dany."

The older girl pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Mr. Lannister? Operation SanSan is a go."


	47. Arianne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new POV because that's how much I love you all! Keep on keeping on!

"Hey, wanna order Chinese tonight?" Arianne's roommate, Ygritte, asked on Saturday night. 

"I'd love to, but I've got plans already," Arianne frowned. 

"With whom?"

"Sandor Clegane. I'm trying to make Arys jealous."

Ygritte raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly, "I will never understand you, Arianne."

"It's okay, Ygritte, my plans always work."

Ygritte snorted. "Sure, Arianne." She took out her phone, "I'm gonna see what Dany's doing tonight."

Arianne picked up bits of Ygritte's conversation with Daenerys as she got ready for her date. Ygritte seemed to be growing more excited the longer Dany talked, and it sounded like they were talking about Arianne's date with Sandor. 

"Arianne, you are _not_ going to believe this," Ygritte said as she hung up the phone. 

"What? What'd Dany say?" Now she was curious. 

"So you know how you're trying to make Arys jealous? Well Dany and Arya are scheming to make Sansa jealous of you and Sandor, too, because _Sansa Stark_ is in love with Sandor Clegane can you believe it!?" Ygritte's eyes were glinting mischievously, the way they had when she'd plotted her revenge against Jon Snow for cheating. Arianne was glad that following the affair, Dany and Ygritte had become even better friends than before. 

"And Sandor agreed to go out with me because he's trying to make somebody jealous, too!" Arianne exclaimed, "What if that person is Sansa!"

"Well, Sansa and Harry are going on a double date with Arya and Gendry tonight at Visenya's, so you really have to be flirty—more than usual, Arianne."

"Gods, this is gonna be _way_ too much fun! Help me pick out an outfit!"

Arianne and Ygritte decided on a strappy, sexy, black maxi dress and her signature golden snake armband. "Sandor is tall as fuck," Ygritte had said when Arianne slipped on a pair of black flats, "wear heels." So she'd stepped into a pair of tall black wedges. She let her hair fall in loose waves, and lined her eyes with liquid eyeliner. 

"Damn girl," Ygritte said as Arianne grabbed her purse to leave, "Slay! Break hearts!"

"Oh don't worry," she flashed her most devious grin, "I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...who's POV do you want for the big date???
> 
> Arianne's dress:   
> http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/fe/85/72/fe8572c5ce2f2f807922aeb376a6db56.jpg  
> Arianne's armband:  
> http://www.pinktreeparties.co.uk/communities/8/004/006/270/758/images/4528361554.jpg


	48. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you all gave me so many fantastic suggestions, I'm going to try to do them all! This is the first chapter of the date—enjoy!

_"Damn, she looks hot,"_ Sandor thought as he picked up Arianne outside of Riverrun dorm. _"To bad this isn't a real date."_

"Sandor! Hey!" Arianne exclaimed, surprising him when she grabbed his hand, "Thanks again for doing this."

"No problem, Arianne," he said, holding open the door to the Red Keep. 

As they were walking down the hall toward the main doors, Joffrey and his pack of goons passed by. Joffrey leered at Arianne, and then did a double take when he saw whose hand she was holding. The look on his face was reward enough for the whole fake date. 

"A-Arianne?" The expression on Arys's face was pitiful. 

"Oh, hi Arys," she answered coolly, as she pulled herself closer to Sandor. He stiffened, wondering how far she would take this charade. 

"Y-you like nice, Arianne." _What a pathetic son of a bitch._

"Thanks, Arys," she resumed walking, "Bye, Arys." _Poor guy looks like he's about to cry. These Martells are relentless._

Sandor and Arianne didn't talk until he broke the silence while they walked down Main Street towards the restaurant. "So that seemed to make Arys pretty jealous," he broached the subject, "Why even bother with the date?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Sandor!" Arianne said cavalierly, nudging his arm, "We have to go on the date to get the whole school talking about it, so that way whoever you're trying to make jealous finds out. And Arys gets extra jealous that way, you know?"

"I guess," he sighed. 

Visenya's was the only fancy restaurant in town, and it was owned by a man called Griff, who'd apparently gone to Aegon's around the same time as the Lannister siblings, Robert Baratheon, and Ned Stark. Griff had a son, also called Griff, that went to Taft. 

Sandor and Arianne's table was on the middle of the restaurant, in clear view of all the other patrons. He suspected that Arianne had something to do with that. 

"So," she began after they'd ordered drinks, "who's this girl you're trying to make jealous?"

"Oh, no one really," he was blushing. He never blushed. _Get it together, Clegane._

"Oh come _on_ , Sandor! You can tell me!"

"Nah, it's a secret." The waiter brought their drinks. 

"Fine! I'll just guess who it is!"

"I'd like to see you try, Martell." _No way in seven hells she'll guess who it is._

"Hmm," she tapped a long red fingernail lazily against her cheek, "Well I doubt it's anyone in our grade—maybe a junior?"

"Maybe."

"Well I'm pretty sure it's not Margaery Tyrell or Jeyne Westerling, and I doubt it's Jeyne Poole. Maybe Daenerys Targaryen? She's pretty."

"You caught me. I'm totally infatuated with Daenerys."

"I call bullshit! She's single—what would you need to make her jealous of?"

"You know what, Arianne, maybe I'm in love with Daenerys. Maybe I lie awake at night thinking about her. Maybe I—oh, fuck."

"What?" Arianne asked, looking around the room. 

Sansa Stark had just walked through the door. 


	49. Gendry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bunch of you requested Gendry's POV, so I wrote it because you guys are the best readers a writer could ask for! But Gendry's POV will probably be a one time thing.

Gendry wasn't thrilled when Arya told him they were going to Visenya's for dinner Saturday night. _That place is fancy, and way too expensive, and I don't even like Harry and Sansa all that much. He's just so...boring._ Not to mention Saturdays were the one fun night of the week. Putting on a tie and eating tiny portions of overpriced food wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend it. But Arya had insisted, and he could never say no to her. 

"You owe me," he told her as they waited for Harry and Sansa near the Red Keep's main doors. 

"Yeah, yeah, we can bang when we get back," she said, uninterested, "Tonight really isn't about you, Gendry."

"Then why are we even going—"

His question was cut short by the arrival of Harry and Sansa. Sansa was all smiles, like always, and Harry looked to be feeling the same way Gendry did about the impending night out. 

"Well come on, let's go," Arya said impatiently, and the group exited the building and began walking off campus onto Main Street. 

They got to the restaurant, and he heard Sansa curse under her breath. 

"Something wrong, sis?" Arya asked casually. 

"No, no nope I'm fine. Just peachy."

_What the fuck?_

The hostess showed them to their table, a booth near the window, and Gendry surveyed the room. 

"Hey!" he said, "Is that Arianne Martell and _Sandor Clegane_?"

"Would you look at that!" Arya exclaimed, "It _is_ them!"

"I didn't know they were even together," Harry said. 

"Neither did I!" Arya said, unusually chipper. _What the fuck is up with Arya tonight?_

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Is that really necessary?" Sandor and Arianne were holding hands across the table.

Gendry was bored by the time their dinners arrived, and his companions all seemed to be going crazy—with the exception of Harry, who was boring as ever.

Arya was giddy and hyper, constantly glancing from Sandor and Arianne to a window on the far side of the restaurant. Sansa was red-faced and twitchy, staring at the couple in the center of the room but trying in vain to hide it. 

_Why did I agree to this stupid dinner? Oh right. Sex later._

"Oh, that is _disgusting_!" Sansa suddenly exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. Gendry turned his head and saw Arianne feeding Sandor bites of her dessert. Sansa had a point—PDA grossed him out, too. 

Gendry couldn't wait for the night to end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you all think so far???


	50. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe this is the fiftieth chapter of this thing. I hope you all enjoy!

Sansa had been surprised when Arya suggested they go out on a double date at Visenya's. Arya and fancy restaurants? It sounded like a bad dream. But she had agreed because who doesn't love getting dressed up and eating good food with friends?

Everything was perfect, until they actually got to the restaurant, and Sansa's eyes were immediately drawn to Sandor Clegane and Arianne Martell holding hands at a table in clear view of everyone in the restaurant. 

_Gods, he looks hot._ Sansa couldn't help but notice how his dark blazer hugged his muscular arms, and how his chest was straining beneath his black button down shirt. He was even wearing a bow tie. _I don't think I've ever seen a guy look that good in a bow tie. What is going on with you, Sansa?_

Sansa tried very hard to focus on her companions, but her attention was constantly being drawn to Sandor and his date. It wasn't just Sansa—Arya seemed pretty distracted, too. 

Then, their dinners arrived and Sansa's attention was diverted to enjoying her steak. That is, until she saw Arianne feeding Sandor bites of a crème brûlée. _"Ugh, what a skank,"_ she found herself thinking. _But you_ like _Arianne,_ she reminded herself. 

She contented herself with the thought that if Sandor was happy, she was happy, too. 

Sansa felt bad that she'd been ignoring Harry all night, but not bad enough to pay more attention to him. _Surely he thinks of this relationship as the sham that it is? He must know that I'm only with him because of Petyr? Because my parents can't know about what happened? He must._

The group was just biting into their desserts when Sandor and Arianne departed from Visenya's. Arianne couldn't keep her hands off of her date, and she kissed him no less than six times before they left the restaurant. 

"They're probably gonna go right to the day student lounge when they get back to campus, am I right, Arya?" Sansa said bitterly. 

"Probably," Arya was nonchalant, "good for Sandor. Arianne is definitely a ten. Maybe even an eleven."

"An eleven? No way, she's like, a seven, eight tops." Sansa couldn't believe her sister. "What do you guys think? Harry? Gendry?"

The boys exchanged a look.

"I would give her an 8... 8.5... or a 9... not over a 9.8 cuz there is always room for improvement," Gendry said.

"She's like..." Harry looked nervously at Sansa, "Like a seven. You're way hotter, babe." He took Sansa's hand in his. 

_What a brown noser._

Sansa couldn't wait for the night to be over, so she could flop onto her bed and bitch about Arianne to Dany, Margaery, and Jeyne. Sansa left the restaurant behind Arya and Gendry, holding hands with Harry. A couple stood kissing passionately on the sidewalk. _How cute! They look happy!_ Sansa thought, even though she couldn't see more of the couple than the girl's long blonde hair. 

Her dorm room was empty when she returned, so Sansa put on her pajamas and trudged down the hall to Jeyne's room, where Jeyne and Margaery were lounging on Jeyne's bed. 

"Hey, kid!" Margaery said brightly, "How was your date?"

"Horrible. Sandor and Arianne were on a date, too, and Arianne was like all over him. It was disgusting, really. Where's Dany?"

"Oh, that's too bad," Jeyne said, "and actually I don't know where Da—"

The door flung open, and Daenerys entered, red-faced and panting. "So," she turned to Sansa, "how was your date?"

"Shitty," Sansa said dismissively, "Where did you just come from?"

"Oh, I was," Dany took a breath, "I was just," she made a wild gesture towards the door, "I was out...jogging. I was jogging."

"In jeans?" Sansa wondered why Dany would lie about her whereabouts.

"Yeah, it's this new thing I read about online. Running. In jeans. Makes you sweat more, you know, to burn, to burn more," she faltered, "calories."

"If you were hooking up with someone, you can tell us," Sansa said teasingly. 

"Well if I _was_ hooking up with someone—which I _wasn't_ —a lady doesn't kiss and tell, anyways." Dany crossed her arms. 

"You're so full of shit. I'll figure out who it is—I have my ways!" Sansa laughed. 

"Yeah, right, Sansa. Tell me about your horrible date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch my "A Very Potter Musical" reference??
> 
> Inspiration for Sandor's outfit:  
> http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0162/4632/files/adam-levine-grammys-2013_large.jpg?1298


	51. Tyrion

It was Dany's idea to hide outside of Visenya's to see Operation SanSan in action, and Tyrion had been secretly pleased about the opportunity to act like a dumb kid again. So he and Daenerys set up shop in the shrubbery near one of the restaurant's windows, hidden more by the cover of darkness than the ornamental hedges, and settled in to spy on their friends. 

"Sandor and Arianne seem to be enjoying themselves," Tyrion observed. 

"Oh, she's in on it, so she's upping the flirting," Daenerys explained. 

"Sandor is one lucky guy," Tyrion wanted to see if he could rile Dany up, "If I was your age, and a girl like that wanted to flirt with me like that...well...I'd be taking advantage of the situation, that's for sure."

She lightly punched Tyrion's shoulder. "You're a total pig, Mr. Lannister!"

"That's hurtful. Really hurtful."

"Aw, poor Mr. Lannister, single and failing to mingle," she mocked him playfully, eyes sparkling in the darkness. 

"Oh, because Miss Daenerys Targaryen is so popular and busy with boys that she's spending her Saturday night creeping on her friends' dates," Tyrion shot back. 

"Touché," she said sullenly, still smiling, and they settled into a comfortable silence. 

The night passed by quicker than Tyrion expected. Dany was a delight all evening, and they kept each other entertained with witty comments about their objects of observation in the restaurant. She was easy to spend time with, and the best part was that she seemed to be enjoying herself, too. _Don't get your hopes up, idiot, she's just a friendly person, and too good for you._

Dany and Tyrion managed to hide when Sandor and Arianne left, holding hands and stealing kisses. "Damn, Clegane," Tyrion and Dany muttered. 

When it was time for Sansa, Harry, Arya, and Gendry to leave, however, Dany and Tyrion were so caught up in a story that he was telling her that they didn't notice the group leaving until they were halfway out the door. Before he could say "Run!" Tyrion found Dany's hands on his face, as she kissed him deeply on the lips. _Holy mother of all that is good and holy—she wasn't kidding when she said she learned a lot in France._

She kept kissing him until the coast was clear, and then broke away hastily, blushing and looking everywhere but at Tyrion.

"Mr. Lannister I am so sorry but they were coming and I panicked and I think I hid you from their view and they just saw my back but oh my god I'm so sorry I can't believe I just did that please don't tell anyone oh gods," she was rambling madly. 

"Daenerys, it's fine," he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "You panicked and did something rash—the gods know I've done worse things in my life."

Daenerys let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Lannister—you really are the best!"

"Come on, Daenerys, let me drive you back to campus." They got in his car and Tyrion realized he was grinning like a horny teenager who just had his first make out session with a girl. He glanced over at the silver-haired angel in the passenger's seat, but she was too busy staring out the window to notice him. _She's probably horrified, and can't wait to go wash out her mouth because she kissed someone as ugly as me._

Tyrion pulled up in front of Riverrun dorm. "So," he began, "We never speak of this?"

"Never," Dany said quickly. She remained seated in the car, contemplating something. "You know, Mr. Lannister, if you weren't my teacher, I'd be half in love with you by now," she opened the door, "because that was a damn good kiss." Dany practically flew out of the car, slamming the door behind her, and ran inside the dorm. 

"Seven hells," Tyrion swore. He needed a cold shower and a drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave all questions/comments/concerns below, and tell me whose POV you'd like next!


	52. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two chapters because I love you all

Dany thought she might explode from embarrassment. Embarrassment and pent-up sexual energy, really. She could barely even focus as Sansa moaned about her horrible date, couldn't even stop to internally gloat at her plan's success. Instead, she was replaying her kiss with Mr. Lannister and their conversation in the car outside of Riverrun over and over in her mind. She still couldn't believe she'd outright flirted with her teacher! _Drogo was good but Mr. Lannister, Mr. Lannister is...that kiss was fucking earth-shattering!_

She had to tell someone. Sansa would've been her first choice, but Dany couldn't tell her, or else she'd reveal the details of Operation SanSan. Margaery or Jeyne would gossip, and she didn't feel close enough to Arianne, Ygritte, or Jeyne Westerling to divulge such an incredibly shocking secret. Varys, her advisor, probably already knew by now, Arya would just laugh at her, and anyone else in the StarkGreySnow+ clan would lose their shit over it. _Gods, he's good with his tongue. I wonder what else he can do with it._ Her thoughts were once again interrupted by thoughts of him. 

In the end, she decided to call Jorah. Jorah would help her. Jorah would understand. It was three in the morning when she crept out into the stairwell and dialed his number, but she reminded herself that it was late morning in France or Spain or wherever he was now. _"Fuck,"_ she thought as the phone rang and went to voicemail, _"He's probably still mad at me."_ She pouted and hung up the phone without leaving a message. She'd run out of options. _"It's not my fucking fault he got pissed when I—what did he call it again?—oh yeah, 'friendzoned' him. Asshole."_

_Oh I know! I'll talk to Ms. Tarth about it! I just won't say_ who _I kissed!_

Dany slipped back into her bed, resolving to talk to Ms. Tarth in the morning. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, and dreamed about nailing her Latin teacher on the desk in his classroom. 


	53. Brienne

"Ms. Tarth, I need help." Daenerys Targaryen said as Brienne opened her door on Sunday afternoon. 

"Come in, Daenerys, sit down," she gestured towards the purple couch, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," her student flopped onto the couch, "but something happened last night and I can't talk to any of my friends about it because they'll gossip and ask too many questions, so I came to you."

"If you had sex, I don't want to know! I don't want to know who, and I certainly don't want to know where!"

"No! I didn't have sex!" Daenerys blushed, "I just—I kissed this guy on an impulse that I know I could never date because it would cause too many problems but now I can't stop thinking about him! The kiss was life-changing, Ms. Tarth, _life-changing_!" Dany threw up her hands in frustration. 

"Well I doubt you're gonna tell me who the guy is, but if the kiss was really that good you should be with him. Who cares what anyone else thinks?"

"I dunno, Ms. Tarth," she looked visibly uncomfortable, "maybe."

"Well go get him, Daenerys!" She ushered the girl out of her apartment—Jaime was coming over soon. 

A few hours later, she was making out with Jaime on the couch when the door flew open and Tyrion entered. _I need to start locking that door_ , she thought, jumping apart from Jaime. 

"I thought I'd find you here, big brother," he said, taking a seat between Jaime and Brienne on the couch. 

"What is so important that you had to come here to find me?" Jaime was slightly exasperated. 

"Well something kind of crazy happened last night," he began. 

"Do tell," Brienne said sarcastically. 

"This girl kissed me and it was totally impulsive and out of nowhere and we agreed to never speak of it, but then she hit on me! And now I can't stop thinking about her, but us dating is totally unrealistic and it can't ever happen."

"Just go for it, man," Jaime said. 

Brienne was about to make a snarky comment when she suddenly recalled her earlier talk with Daenerys, and everything clicked into place.

_Oh, fuck_.


	54. Sandor

"Okay class, as you know your big winter history project is coming up, so I'm going to pair you all up now, and then let you start working with your partners. You should all come meet with me by the end of the week to discuss your plans and get my approval," Sandor was sitting in his first period AP United States History class on Monday morning. 

_As long as I'm not partners with Joffrey, I don't give a damn who I'm paired with._

The Imp was rattling off names. "Joffrey and Walder, and last but not least, Sandor and Sansa."

Sandor nearly groaned aloud. _Figures I have to spend time with_ her _for the next few weeks_. He glanced at Sansa, who was biting her lip and making a strange sort of grimace. She caught Sandor's eye and flashed him a weak smile. _The little bird isn't so thrilled to be my partner, it seems._

Sansa move closer to Sandor so they could discuss their project. She was all business, and didn't even joke around or start talking football the way she usually did. Sandor wondered if his date with Arianne had made her jealous, the way he'd hoped. _Probably not, you dumb dog—she has that blond bozo to keep her company._

"So," Sandor said after they'd picked a topic, "How was your weekend, little b— _Sansa_?" He remembered the way she'd looked so hurt, and the way she'd berated him the last time he'd called her little bird, all those months ago.

"It was fine," she said testily, "How was yours? You and Arianne is all anyone's been talking about."

"Oh, really? I didn't hear anything."

"Well you were probably too caught up with Arianne to notice." _Was the little bird actually jealous?_

"Yeah, I was busy alright," he smirked at Sansa. In truth, following the date he'd taken Arianne back to her dorm and barely spoken to her since. 

Sansa let out an indignant huff. "Well hopefully you won't be too _busy_ to work on this project."

Sandor could barely believe his ears. The little bird was fucking _jealous_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which POVs would you like next? And if anyone has any ideas for some plotlines involving any of the boys or teachers (not #operationsansan stuff lol), please leave it in the comments or message me on tumblr (mygiantoflannisters.tumblr.com)! I'd really appreciate it!
> 
> P.S. Are any of you lovely people artistically inclined?


	55. Sansa

Sansa and Sandor met with Tyrion Friday after school to get their history project approved. As Sansa expected, he gave them the go ahead after only a short explanation.

"Tyrion, I can't work with Sandor on this," she remained in her advisor's office after Sandor had left. 

"Why ever not? You two have already got everything figured out, and it seems like you work well together. I thought you and Clegane were friends?" He didn't even bother correcting her for calling him by his first name. 

"No you don't _understand_!" Sansa whined. 

"A teenager telling an adult they don't understand something. How original."

"This is not the time for your fooling around, Tyrion!" Sansa said, frustrated, "It's bad enough I've got Jeyne to worry about, and now this whole thing with Sandor I—"

"Wait a minute," Tyrion interrupted her, "What's going on with Jeyne?"

"Well she's dating Ramsay and we all hate him, because he's so creepy and stuff, you know? But it's not even just that anymore—she's been really distant lately and just not her usual happy-go-lucky self, and I'm scared because she's sort of acting like I did when I was with Joffrey. She's also been wearing long sleeves a lot and just really covering herself up—I'm worried about her, Tyrion," she finished, feeling tears in her eyes. 

"Sansa," Tyrion began slowly, "that's a pretty serious accusation—not that I don't believe you because that Ramsay guy is bad news. Have you tried talking to Jeyne?"

"Yeah, but she just says everything is great between them! Maybe it's time that Dany, Margaery, and I had an intervention?"

"I think that's a good idea. Now, what's going on with you and Clegane?"

"Ugh," Sansa groaned, "It's a looooong story."

"I've got time," he answered, and so she told him everything, starting with the Brotherhood Without Banners concert and ending with her disastrous double date the previous weekend. 

"And what does any of that have to do with anything?" Tyrion asked, seeming remarkably uninterested by the whole affair, Sansa couldn't help but note. 

She paused, thinking about it all for a second, before sighing and answering. "Because...because Sandor, he's with Arianne, now, and I'm stuck with Harry," she was close to tears, "and I had so many chances and I," she struggled to choke out the words before she began sobbing in earnest, "I didn't realize it until it was too late, but, Tyrion," she paused, "gods be damned I think I'm in love with him."

"I think you're right," Tyrion said softly, getting up from his chair and hugging Sansa, all the while stroking her hair until she finally stopped crying. 


	56. Jeyne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of you wanted more Jeyne/Theon/Ramsay, so I wrote Jeyne's POV! This is most likely going to be a one time thing, like with Gendry's chapter earlier in the story. Anyways, enjoy!

Jeyne was lounging on her bed, flipping lazily through the latest issue of Love and Beauty magazine, when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Ramsay. 

"See you tonight at 8." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

_Tonight is our one month anniversary. I hope he doesn't expect...? I'll just have to say no. I can do that. I can say no._ She flipped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, grimacing. _Well I just hope he doesn't ask at all._

"See you tonight xx" she texted back quickly. Ramsay didn't like it when she wasn't prompt with her responses. 

"Where are you going?" Dany asked hours later, when Jeyne was on her way out the door. 

"I'm going to hang out with Ramsay. I'll see you later!" Jeyne chirped, trying to avoid any more questions as she tugged at her sleeves. 

"Well, when are you gonna be back?"

"Who are you, my mom?" The sooner she met up with Ramsay the sooner it would be over. "I dunno when I'll be back. It's a Saturday—sign-in isn't until 11:30."

"Just...come back as soon as you can, okay? We can have girls' night! We never do that anymore!"

Girls' night sounded great, but Ramsay was waiting. Ramsay hated waiting. "Yeah, sure, Dany! See ya!" 

She bounded out of the room and rushed across campus to the music practice room where they often met. In the basement, a small offshoot of the main hallway housed a row of music practice rooms, and at the end of the corridor was the photography classroom. Ramsay preferred the practice room all the way at the end of the hall, furthest from the noise of the main hallway, where they were least likely to be disturbed. 

He was perched on the piano when Jeyne arrived. "Jeyne!" He said, grabbing her and playfully spinning her around before kissing her and pulling her down onto his lap on the rickety plastic folding chair. _Can it be the Ramsay I started dating is back?_

He contented himself with kisses for a while, but then his hands were reaching for the hem of her shirt, and then they were unclasping her bra. She let him, because it wasn't any more than they'd already done. But when he reached to pull up her skirt she pulled away, heart pounding. "No," she whispered, "not tonight."

Ramsay's puppydog grin vanished, and his eyes narrowed. "But I am your boyfriend, and don't you want to make me happy?"

"Of course I want to make you happy! But I'm not ready for sex yet."

His grip on her wrists tightened. She would have fresh bruises by morning. "I don't remember asking your permission, Jeyne."

"Well I...I'm saying no!"

"And I'm saying yes." His eyes were glinting maliciously in the darkness of the room. "There's no use screaming, either, because no one will hear you way back here," he said, reaching up her skirt. 

Jeyne squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't let him do this to her. Before she could even stop to think about what she was doing, she punched Ramsay in the crotch and leapt from his lap, grabbing her shirt, throwing open the door and racing outside. She tugged on her shirt and raced out into the main hallway towards Flea Bottom, prepared to lose herself in the crowded student union, when she crashed into Theon Greyjoy. 

"Jeyne? Are you okay?" Theon asked, brow wrinkled in concern, "Why are you crying?" 

Crying? She hadn't even noticed. "R-Ramsay, he, he was—he tried to—"

Jeyne was interrupted by the devil himself striding down the hall towards them. "There you are, Jeyne! I was worried you were leaving early," he said calmly. But Jeyne knew better. 

"You stay away from her," Theon said defensively, stepping in front of Jeyne so that he was shielding her with his body. 

"Theon Greyjoy! What a lovely surprise!"

"Take one more step and you're dead," Theon warned him. 

All Ramsay did was laugh. 

The next few things happened too fast for Jeyne to process them fully. Ramsay continued advancing towards Jeyne, and suddenly Theon was on him, punching him in the face and the gut and everywhere until Ramsay was on the ground and Theon was standing over him, triumphant, with naught but a bloody lip in return. 

"Come on, Jeyne," Theon said, taking her hand, "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Jeyne/Ramsay/Theon is not my area of expertise, so if anything seems OC or unusual, please let me know so I can correct it and improve upon it next time!


	57. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different...

"Joffrey's busy tonight. Come over at seven?" Arya saw Gendry's text after fencing practice. 

"See you then ;)" she texted back quickly. They'd both been so busy with school and sports lately that it seemed like she'd barely seen her boyfriend at all this semester. And no Joffrey meant they could hook up on an actual bed—not some shady couch in the Day Student Lounge. Arya grinned walking down the hill to the Red Keep for dinner. This was shaping up to be a good night. 

At dinner, Arya waltzed into Storm's End and sat with the StarkGreySnow+ clan as usual (even though as an underclassman she technically wasn't supposed to be there). "Hey, Margaery!" she called across the table. 

"Yeah, Baby Stark?" Arya hated the nickname, because technically _Bran_ was the real Baby Stark, but it had stuck, and most of the group's non-family members had begun referring to her as such. 

"Keep Joffrey busy tonight, okay? Because I'm hanging out with Gendry in their room during Court!"

"Sure thing, babe!" Margaery smiled her crooked smile. 

Robb was looking at Arya from across the booth, his face red with vein in his neck becoming prominent. "Nope, sorry, Arya," he said, "You aren't going to 'hang out' with Gendry in his room. Nope. No way. You're not allowed."

"Yeah okay, Robb, and you're not allowed to go 'hang out' with Jeyne tonight," Arya rolled her eyes. Robb's threats were always empty. 

"I will _not_ have my little sister doing dishonorable things in there! Tyrion's on duty tonight and we all know he never checks rooms!"

"Tyrion's on duty?" Arya nodded her head at her good luck, "Sweet! I can just walk right in—I don't even have to sneak in through the window!"

"I cannot believe," Robb sputtered, getting up from the table and walking away, muttering things like "my own sister" and "against so many rules" as he went. 

"Oh and also I'm not a virgin, Robb!" she yelled after him, and the booth's occupants dissolved into laughter. 

"I'm not kidding," she told an especially giggly Theon, and he became very quiet. 

Arya showered and threw on her favorite pair of leggings and a huge sweater she'd stolen from Jon. She didn't even bother with a bra, because Gendry was helpless when it came to taking them off. _I need to remind Theon to teach him that trick of his where he just pops bras off one-handed in under three seconds. That boy is a wonder._ Arya amused herself with thoughts of Theon's bra-removing prowess as she climbed the steps of Dragonstone. 

Gendry lived on the first floor—which was really the second floor because of the basement which wasn't really a basement—and Arya usually snuck into Gendry's room by climbing up the tree outside his window. More often than not, it was Gendry who snuck into Arya's room in Winterfell basement through her window, which opened onto the ground, because there was the issue of Gendry's roommate always demanding use of the room. Of course, there were ways to visit Gendry in his room without breaking half a dozen school rules and risking suspension, but interdorming paperwork was a hassle and the rules eliminated any chance of fun. But with Tyrion on duty, Arya was able to walk right through Dragonstone and into Gendry's dorm room. If anyone asked—which she doubted they would—she'd say she was going to see her brother on her father's orders. 

She greeted Gendry with a kiss and he took her by the hands, pulling her down next to him on his bed. "How was your day?" he asked between kisses. 

"Oh, skip the small talk, Gendry—we both know there's only one reason we're here and it's not for the conversation."

"More like lack of conversation," he said smugly, and Arya almost wanted to smack him—he looked so pleased with his wit. 

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" she giggled, as she lay back on the bed and pulled him on top of her. 

Arya's phone buzzed in the midst of their fooling around, but she left it on Gendry's desk. _Whatever it is, it can wait._

Five minutes later, the door swung open and Joffrey was on the threshold, wormy lips curled into what Arya thought was a smile as his eyes fell upon his roommate's illicit activities. 

"Oh," he began, "You are _so_ fucked. Literally." He paused, thinking about something. "I'll give you some privacy," he said, shutting the door. 

Arya had never gotten dressed faster in her life. "I'll call you!" she said apologetically as she grabbed her phone and opened Gendry's window, deciding that climbing down the tree reduced her chances of being caught by anyone else. 

When Arya finally checked her phone much later, after she'd related the story to Shireen, who hadn't been able to contain her laughter, she saw that she had one text from Margaery. 

"Joffrey's coming," the text read, "Run!"

_The one time I don't check my phone..._


	58. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, Jon's POV!

"You will not _believe_ what filthy gossip is being spread about our family!" Robb said by way of greeting, barging into Jon's room on a Thursday night.

"Good to see you, too, Robb. No, we really haven't been spending enough time together. Yeah, it is a shame," he said in response. 

Sam was wide-eyed, looking interestedly from Jon to Robb and back to Jon, all hope of finishing his calculus homework forgotten. 

"Joffrey motherfucking Baratheon is telling everyone that he caught Arya and Gendry having sex in his bed!"

"Well is it true?" Jon asked. If it wasn't about his favorite sister, he would've been amused by Robb's irrational irateness. 

"Of course it isn—I don't know. It's Arya. It's probably true," Robb seemed slightly calmer. 

"Well I hope she did have sex in Joffrey's bed," Sam said suddenly, "Serves the bastard right."

Jon started giggling, and broke into a full on guffaw. "It's not fu—oh fuck it. Yes, it is funny," Robb joined in on the laughter. 

"She's not in trouble, is she?" Jon asked. 

"I dunno. She hasn't exactly talked to me about it."

"Well as long as Joffrey doesn't tell his mom," Sam reasoned, "she should be fine."

"But you're right, Jon, I haven't spent enough time with you. How's your life? And you, too, Sam?"

"Eh, life is aight," Jon said casually, "you know, classes suck, and I can't wait to get out of this school, but the sex with Ygritte is better than ever."

"Yeah man!" Robb grinned, giving his half-brother a high-five. "And what's up with you and Gilly, Sam?

Sam blushed at the mention of Gilly. _He's still so shy when it comes to girls._

"Well," Sam began, "We've been together for about two months now, and I'm hoping we'll... _do it_...after Formal."

Jon clapped Sam on the back. "What a gentleman."

"Hey, if you need tips or condoms or anything, just let me know, okay?" 

"Thanks, but I've actually got another source of girl advice. And I'll just steal condoms from Jon—he doesn't get laid _that_ much."

Robb looked surprised. "Well, I'm always here if you change your mind, man."

Jon couldn't help but smirk. Robb loved to act the part of the loving but cool father to the whole StarkGreySnow+ clan, and usually he did it pretty convincingly. As much as Jon was annoyed by it sometimes, he knew they'd all be lost without Robb holding them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Theon!


	59. Theon

Theon was acutely aware of the fact that Jeyne was holding his hand. He didn't really mind, after what she'd just been through, and he was still in awe of his heroic—but admittedly out-of-character—actions to protect Jeyne from Ramsay. He tightened his grip on her hand as they walked up the basement stairs and turned into main hallway. 

_Who knew I was such a knight in shining armor? I hope Ramsay doesn't try anything...but it'll be his word against mine and Jeyne's so we're sure to win._

"Are you okay, Jeyne?" he glanced over at the sweet brunette next to him. Her dark eyes were red-rimmed and her mascara was running. _She still looks cute, though._

"Well, I escaped before anything bad happened, but he was going to...to _rape_ me, Theon. Like it was _nothing_! He didn't even look like he felt guilty or anything!"

Theon was uncomfortable. He wasn't good with handling people's emotions. That was more Robb's forte. "Well. I mean. Men are pigs?"

"You're really shitty at comforting people, you know that?" Jeyne was smiling. "At least you know how to hit people."

"I've actually never been in a real fight before. Sure, Robb and I wrestle sometimes but then we...never mind." _We said 'no homo' so it's all good._

Jeyne giggled. "My hero," she said in a playful singsong voice. 

Theon took a deep, mocking bow. "Lord Theon Greyjoy, at your service." What had gotten into him? "So, do you want me to walk you back to the dorm or...?" He let the question hang unfinished in the air, secretly wishing she wasn't ready to go back yet. _What do I care? I'm not even interested in her!_

"Um, maybe we could just hang out for a while? Like, actually hang out?" she asked, unusually shy. 

"Yeah, why not? It's a Saturday night, and I think the Kingslayer's on duty in Dragonstone. Wanna sneak up to my room?"

"Sure!" She was practically beaming. 

So Theon spent the better part of the night with Jeyne. She was surprisingly good company, and not as annoying as he remembered. They talked and laughed and watched quite a few episodes of _That 70's Show_ on Netflix. Theon inwardly applauded himself for not even trying to get Jeyne drunk. Around ten, Sandor walked in, saw Jeyne and Theon giggling on the couch, and promptly walked right back out of the room. They laughed even harder. 

Jeyne got up to leave a little after eleven, and Theon stood up with her. "Let me walk you back to Riverrun," he said. 

"Theon," Jeyne began at the door to the dorm, "thank you, you know, for defending my honor, and stuff."

"Hey, it was no problem."

Jeyne stood on her tiptoes and started kissing him. He kissed her back before pulling away suddenly. "Jeyne, what are you doing?"

"But I thought...gods, how could I be so stupid?" She looked about ready to start crying again. 

Theon's eyes softened. Had she really been treated so poorly by men that he, Theon, doing the right thing had seemed so heroic and special to her?

"No, Jeyne, you're not stupid. Not at all. You're funny and clever and, and you're beautiful." Why did he feel so shy all of a sudden?

"But you just see me as a little sister."

"You're just...you're Jeyne. I've known you forever! And I—" he was glad when she interrupted him. He didn't know where he was going with this. 

"Goodnight, Theon," she said, hugging him. "Thank you."

He walked back to Riverrun deep in thought. He definitely didn't think of Jeyne as a sister, but he wasn't yet sure if he could see a future with her. And yet, the more he tried to deny it, the more he remembered how much fun they'd had, and how good that kiss had been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is still enjoying this little story of mine—I started it with a few ideas in mind and it's sort of snowballed from there. Please feel free to tell me what you like and what you don't like so I can make this story even better!
> 
> Also, I've been watching a LOT of That 70's Show recently, and Jackie and Hyde's relationship in the earlier seasons sort of reminds me of Jeyne and Theon? Am I totally crazy? Probably!
> 
> Up next...Operation SanSan or more about Gendry and Arya's predicament? You guys decide!


	60. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, more Operation SanSan!

"I have good news," Daenerys said, walking with Tyrion to his office after their last period Latin II class. 

"As do I," he said, holding open the door for her. 

"Fantastic!" She sat across the desk from him. "You go first!"

"Well," he began, "Sansa and Sandor have been spending a lot of time together for their project, and she also told me she was in love with him." He said the last part as nonchalantly as possible, bracing himself for Daenerys's reaction. 

"She _what_? She told _you_ first instead of _me_?" She reached over the desk to slap him lightly on the arm, and he felt like quite the lecherous pig when he found himself staring down her shirt at her partially exposed breasts. _They are two very lovely breasts._

"Hey!" She exclaimed, "Stop staring at my boobs and tell me what Sansa said!"

Tyrion blushed. How can girls always know when guys are staring at their tits? "She told me the whole long story about their broken friendship, and had this epiphany that she loves him. Then she started sobbing."

"Well that's good! She's admitting her feelings! And Arianne said Sandor admitted as much to her. Though not the love part, just the 'yeah, I'd tap that' part."

Tyrion cringed at the thought of his favorite advisee being fucked by the hound. "So what was your news, Daenerys?"

"Oh! I figured out Step Three of Operation SanSan!"

"Which is?"

"I'm gonna seduce Harry into cheating on Sansa, and then I'll tell her I only did it because I thought he was being unfaithful and wanted to test my theory. Then she'll dump him for sure and just in time for Sandor to ask her to Formal!" Daenerys looked excited at her evil genius. Tyrion, however, was not so thrilled. _I wish I was the one being seduced._

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked her. 

"Do you have a better one?" she eyed him pointedly. 

He sighed. "No."

"Then it's settled! I'll start seducing Harry ASAP—I'm not really thrilled about it, though. He's not really my type. Too..."

_Handsome? Dull? Sporty?_

"To typical," she decided on an adjective. 

"Well, just be careful and don't break Sansa's heart too much," he instructed as Daenerys got up to leave, "Not that I think she'll mind," he added as an afterthought. 

"Oh, and Mr. Lannister?" she asked, standing at the door. 

"Yes, Daenerys?" He loved saying her name. 

"I know you stare at my boobs all the time during class, and I'm just letting you know that I don't mind." She grinned her heartbreaking, devilish grin and departed. 

_What in seven hells...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this sort of became a Dany/Tyrion chapter...my apologies...


	61. Daenerys

_"I really need to stop flirting with Mr. Lannister,"_ Dany berated herself as she walked back to Riverrun from his office. _"But Ms. Tarth said to go for it!"_ another voice reminded her. _"Well she wouldn't have said that if she knew I was talking about one of my teachers,"_ Dany decided, begrudgingly, because she really didn't want to stop the flirting. It had been weeks and she still couldn't stop thinking about that damn kiss. 

_Focus, Daenerys, you have Harry to worry about._

She would begin the seduction that night—the sooner it was over the better, and tonight was ideal. Sansa would be all the way up at Andover for a hockey nightgame, and wouldn't be back until well past eleven. That left Dany all of Saturday night to get Harry away from thoughts of Sansa and into a practice room. She would take no pleasure in it—but if Sansa ended up with Sandor in the end it would be worth it. Sansa had been kind to Dany since day one, and it was all she could do to repay her. 

Luckily, the seniors decided to through an impromptu dance in the small blackbox theater, so Dany informed Margaery of her plan and they went together, decked out in their shortest spandex and most revealing crop tops. Harry wandered in with a group of lax bros, and Dany got to work. She grabbed Margaery and they started dancing together near Harry and his friends. Joffrey was away at the hockey game, so they didn't have to worry about him dragging Margaery away to go hook up in some sketchy French classroom.

The boys reacted immediately, one began grinding with Margaery and another with Dany. Harry, she noticed, didn't seem to be paying them much attention. _I guess that means I'll have to do this the old fashioned way._

She shook off the sweaty lax bro that was grinding with her, and danced towards Harry. Taking him by the hands, she used everything she'd learned in France to her advantage. And it worked. Soon enough, she was whispering—well, more like yelling over the blaring music—in Harry's ear, asking him to leave. 

"You wanna go someplace quieter?" she yelled. 

He nodded, leading her to a bench in the hall outside of the blackbox. "Daenerys, what are you doing?" he asked, sitting down next to her. 

She put on her most innocent expression. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"This. Flirting with me. You know I'm with Sansa, and I thought you were one of her best friends."

Figures Harry was some upstanding perfect boyfriend, and not some douchebag like Joffrey must've been. "I've always liked you, Harry. And I know you're attracted to me, too. Besides, Sansa's gone for the night—I promise she'll never find out." She was reminded of a night months earlier, when she'd promised Jon Snow something similar. Then, however, she'd kept her promise. 

"I don't know, Daenerys..."

It took more coercion, but eventually Harry agreed, and Dany led him to the miraculously empty Day Student Lounge. 

They kissed on the couch, and Dany let him get to second base, but she was bored the whole time. Harry was a good kisser, and he didn't even fumble with the clasp of her bra, but she wasn't attracted to him in the slightest. Even Jorah would've been a better hook up than this. 

She left him around ten, slipping away from the room after Harry had already left to avoid suspicion. Laying on her bed later that night, telling Margaery and Jeyne what had happened, Dany didn't feel proud, just dirty. She hoped it would be enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next is Sandor, then probably Sansa followed by Arya!  
> I definitely want to write a Bran chapter for you guys, but I have absolutely no ideas for a plotline—please leave suggestions in the comments!
> 
> Side note: Andover is a boarding school way up in northern Massachusetts, and it's about the farthest place my school ever travels to for sports


	62. Sandor

"Because you've been so cool about all this making Arys jealous nonsense, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," Arianne had said while they were working together on a lab in AP Chemistry. 

"I doubt you can tell me anything I don't already know," he said smugly. 

"Oh, well if that's the case I guess I won't even bother," she said, raising her eyebrows with a slight frown, "But it's too bad, because it's not _every_ day that one becomes privy to some extra juicy gossip about the ginger beauty of the junior class, miss Sansa Stark." Arianne looked triumphant. Sandor wanted to smack her. 

"Is that so?" He tried to keep his voice level, "Well you might as well tell me."

Arianne smirked up at him. "I thought you might say so!" She paused, " _Well_ as you know, we've been trying to make both Arys and Sansa jealous. And as it turns out, Daenerys and Tyrion Lannister have been plotting to get you and Sansa together, because for some reason she likes you back, man."

_No fucking way. The bitch is fucking with me._

"I don't believe you," he said sullenly, glancing at his lab sheet. 

"Oh, really? Why do you think I was extra flirty when we went on our 'date'?" She continued without waiting for a response. "Because Dany called me and told me the plan. It wasn't a coincidence that Sansa showed up with Harry an hour later! Still don't believe me? Why do you think the Imp assigned you to be Sansa's partner in history?"

_Oh, fuck. She_ was _telling the truth._

"Well then," he was trying—and failing—to keep the upper hand in the conversation, "why are you telling me? Isn't that ruining the whole plan?"

"I figured it might be easier for their plan to _work_ if one half of the couple actually knows what the fuck's going on!"

"The fuck is me knowing gonna do? The little b—Sansa is with Harry."

"There's a hockey away game tonight, isn't there? Just sit with her on the bus and flirt!" She punched him lightly on the arm. "You know they have a couple name for you guys? Like Brangelina, you know?"

"Oh really? What shit did the Targaryen girl come up with?"

"SanSan! How adorable is that?" The girl practically squealed in delight. 

"I will never understand women..."

Arianne laughed. 

And yet, after the hockey game—Aegon's had lost to Andover, as expected, because Andover was the best at everything—Sandor found himself following Arianne's advice. 

"Hey, Sansa, can I sit here?" he asked, boarding the bus. 

The little bird looked surprised but pleased. "Um, yeah, sure! I think Jeyne ditched me for Theon, anyways."

He sat next to her. "Thanks, Sansa."

"So, what's up, Sandor?" she asked pleasantly. 

So this is gonna sound pretty weird and fucked up, but..." He relayed all that he'd learned from Arianne to Sansa, even admitting that he's been purposely trying to make her jealous.

"But I thought it might be fun to fuck around with the ones orchestrating this whole thing, so don't tell Dany you know, okay?" He finished. 

The look on Sansa's face was hard to read. "I can't believe them!" She said finally. "Dany and Arya, sure, but _Tyrion_? Wow, they must be pretty freaking bored with their own lives to fuck with ours so much!"

"True," Sandor agreed, "But now, the messers become the messees!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch my Friends reference?   
> My infinite love and affection if you can name which episode the reference was from!


	63. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is not something I'm proud of; in fact, it is rather disgusting and altogether shitty, which was not my intention. I attempted to translate Sansa and Petyr's relationship into a modern setting, but it didn't really work, so I ended up with the sloppily written chapter. In an attempt to remedy this, I took out the offensive parts and left the remainder of the chapter. If you can accept that there is no valid reason for why Sansa stayed with Harry or what was going on between her and Petyr, the chapter should be fine now.  
> I hope you will choose to continue reading Aegon's Academy despite this chapter, because I have worked very hard to write something that appeals to a wide audience and incorporates many of the things readers suggest. Again, I apologize for the overall disaster that is this chapter.

"Enough about this stupid project," Sandor said, "How are we gonna get back at Dany and the Imp?"

Sansa and Sandor were sitting at the small round table in a study room tucked away in a corner of the library on Sunday afternoon, working on their history project. History was barely on Sansa's mind, however, because she was totally entranced by Sandor's chest, which was straining against the confines of his tight black t-shirt. _I should just reach across the table, grab him by the shirt, and kiss him._

Sandor coughed, and she realized she was biting her lip. "Revenge? Any ideas?" he prompted her.

"I'm not very good at pranks. That's Arya and my brothers' specialty," she admitted.

"Okay, what if I trash the Imp's classroom?" he asked in a way that seemed to imply he was being totally serious.

"No, Sandor!" She berated him. "We can't get in trouble!"

"Fine," he capitulated, "but I'll do it if you change your mind."

Sansa thought for a moment. "Do you watch _Friends_?" she asked.

"I've seen a few episodes."

"Okay, well in one episode Rachel and Phoebe decide to mess with Chandler and Monica—who've been secretly dating—but Chandler and Monica find out, so they mess with Rachel and Phoebe in return," Sansa explained.

"So we're Chandler and Monica?" he asked. She nodded. "But we aren't secretly dating, unless I'm missing something."

Sansa blushed. "That's not the point!" she snapped, "In the show, Chandler and Phoebe fake flirt with each other. Maybe we could do something like that? To throw them off?"

"What do you want me to do? Flirt with the Imp?" Sandor eyed her mischievously.

Sansa leaned across the table and smacked his arm, which, she hated to admit, was quite firm and muscular. "Please. You're not Tyrion's type."

"And you are?"

"Why don't we find out?" Sansa had never felt so bold in her life. She relished the new sensation n

Sandor looked— _is he actually jealous?_ "Whatever you say, Sansa, but I still say we trash his classroom."

Sansa opened her mouth to scold him again when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Dany: Where are you? Need to talk.

"Hey, I have to go, but I'll talk to you later, okay? Text me!" she said.

"I don't have your number," he reminded her.

"Really? How is that possible?" Sansa grabbed a pen and scribbled her number across his hand. "Bye, Sandor!" she called, grabbing her laptop and heading out the door.

Dany was waiting for Sansa in her room once she got back to Riverrun. She stood up immediately, a sad look on her face.

"What happened?" Sansa asked, "Who died?"

"I have some bad news, Sansa," Dany said.

"Just tell me, Dany! You're scaring me."

"Well," she took Sansa's hands and they sat on the bed. "For a while I've been suspecting Harry of being unfaithful, so I decided to test my theory."

"Okay?" Sansa was unsure where this was headed.

"Last night, Harry was at the blackbox dance, and I grinded with him and then we made out and stuff in the Day Student Lounge. I only did it to protect you, Sansa, and I hope you can understand that."

Dany looked so distraught, it broke Sansa's heart. She immediately assumed this was another step to Dany and Tyrion's SanSan scheming, so she decided to use that to her advantage. Good for Harry. He probably did more with Dany than he had with Sansa in the two months they'd been together. Dany probably thought Sansa would dump him, and Sansa wanted to, but she knew in her heart that she couldn't. It wasn't just about Littlefinger saving her from Meryn anymore. And her parents could never know.

Noting Sansa's silence, Dany spoke again. "Are you mad at me, Sansa?"

Sansa made herself look as hurt and betrayed as possible. "No," she said softly, "Just disappointed."

"But now you know he's unfaithful! He was willing to cheat with one of your friends, Sansa! I wouldn't stay with him another minute."

"I'm sure Harry and I can work it out. All couples have their issues."

"Sansa, he _cheated_ on you!"

"But—"

"Once a cheater, always a cheater!"

"I think you're overreacting, Dany," Sansa said calmly.

"Maybe, but I want a second opinion. Come with me." Dany grabbed Sansa by the wrist and near-dragged her from the room. Sansa assumed they were going to Ms. Tarth's apartment, so she was surprised when they turned into the stairwell and exited the dorm, crossing the quad to Dragonstone. _"I should've realized Tyrion was the second opinion,"_ Sansa thought as Dany rapped on his door.

Tyrion answered the door with a raised eyebrow. "Either this is the weirdest booty call of my life, or one of you fucked up," he said by way of greeting.

"You wish," Dany muttered, pulling Sansa into the apartment. They sat on the barstools around the island in Tyrion's kitchen, which opened into the living room.

"But seriously, if you guys broke any rules I don't want to know. Just act like nothing happened."

"Dany dragged me here," Sansa admonished, "but no, we didn't break any rules."

"Then why _are_ you girls here?"

"I don't know, Dany, why are we here?" Sansa said sarcastically.

"So last night I hooked up with Harry to prove that he was being unfaithful, and Sansa won't break up with him! I told her that cheaters always cheat again, but she won't listen. Tell her, Mr. Lannister," Dany explained.

"Sansa, honestly, why are you still with Harry? It's obvious you don't really like him, and if he cheated on you...there's no reason to stay in the relationship."

"That's not true! I love Harry!"

"Bullshit. You used to say the same things about Joffrey so he wouldn't hit you," Tyrion said irritably, "You can trust us, Sansa. You don't have to lie."

_I suppose he's right._

Sansa took a deep breath. "It's kind of a long story," she told them.

Dany crossed her arms. "We've got time."

Sansa took another deep breath. She's been carrying this secret around for two months—it was time to tell the truth.  

Dany and Tyrion were silent as she finished her story. Sansa was relieved—she felt as though a weight had been lifted from her chest, a weight she hadn't even realized was pressing down on her every day for the past two months. ~~~~

"I'll be back," Tyrion stood up suddenly, and left the room, slamming his door behind him.

 

Tyrion returned a half hour later, looking no worse for the wear, but with a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Sansa, Littlefinger will not be bothering you anymore. And don't worry about Harry—I dumped him for you."

Sansa jumped off her barstool and hugged her advisor tightly, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, Tyrion, I love you," she whispered in his ear.

Tyrion didn't offer any more details about where he'd been or what he'd done, and neither Dany nor Sansa pressed him. The girls departed from his apartment, Sansa smiling wider than she had in months.

_It'll be a piece of cake seducing Tyrion now._


	64. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to begin by apologizing for the last chapter, because I know parts of it some readers found offensive and upsetting. This was bad writing on my part, and not my intention at all. I hope everyone can continue reading and enjoying the story.

Come Monday morning, the school was buzzing with the news of The Imp and Littlefinger's epic fistfight. The gossip clearly implied that Tyrion was the obvious winner—he'd come out unscathed. Littlefinger came to his classes sporting a black eye and a broken nose, not to mention he was edgier than usual, as if constantly on the look out for an assailant. Everyone disagreed over the cause of the fight. Some said it was over a girl, some said it was over business, and some said Tyrion just beat the shit out of everyone's least favorite teacher for the hell of it. So enthralled was the school with talk of the fight, no one even mentioned Harrold Hardyng and Sansa Stark's mysterious break up. Arya assumed that since she'd made it since Thursday without being reprimanded for her illegal interlude with Gendry, that she was in the clear.

Even so, she and Gendry had decided on a story to tell if asked. Arya insisted that they tell the truth, and decided that if any time was a good time to use her last name to her advantage, this was it. When she was summoned to Mr. Martell's office after school on Monday, however, she knew she was in deep shit. Gendry had received a similar summons, but his meeting was directly after Arya's. 

_Martell loves me,_ Arya told herself, _and he did crazy shit when he was at Aegon's, so I bet he'll let me off easy if I can make him laugh about what I did._

But when Arya knocked on the Dean of Students' office, and stepped inside, it was not just her Spanish teacher but her father as well. Oberyn say lazily in his elegant black leather desk chair, but Ned looked ready to kill someone. A vein was bulging in his forehead— _so that's where Robb gets that from!_ —and his lips were shut so tightly they formed a severe white line across his face. 

_Well, I'm fucked._

"Please, Arya, have a seat," the tall Long Islander said graciously, "I think you have an idea of why you're here?"

"Yes," she sighed. 

"Well, could you please tell me what exactly happened on Thursday night?"

"Mr. Martell, I swear to the seven I'll tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth—yada yada yada—but I'd be more comfortable if my father wasn't here. You understand, right?"

Martell chuckled, and Arya silently congratulated herself. "You don't mind, do you, Ned?" he asked lightly. 

"Whatever it takes," her father answered sharply, before striding out of the office. 

"Okay, Arya, just tell me what happened."

So she did. She told Mr. Martell everything that had happened—trying not to be too explicit—and he listened without interrupting, which she appreciated. When she was finished, he stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. 

"Honestly, what you did is pretty innocent compared to the crap some of the other students do here. Hell, _I_ was doing worse stuff back in the day. And your boyfriend is just unfortunate to have Joffrey as a roommate. So really, between you and me let's just blame Pycelle for everything."

Arya couldn't help but laugh. "So what's my punishment? Are you gonna expel me?"

"I'll hear what Gendry has to say, and then tomorrow we'll have a meeting with Joffrey and his parents, you and your father, and Gendry and myself. Depending on how pushy Joffrey and Cersei decide to be, well, let's just say I promise I won't let them turn your punishment into something outrageous. And I'll try to reign in your father, too."

"Thanks, Mr. Martell. Can I go?" she asked. 

"Sure, Arya. Send Gendry in ok your way out. I'll see you in class tomorrow!"

Arya didn't see Gendry again until dinner. He'd gotten off remarkably well, too, but was worried about the meeting the next day. 

"But what if Joffrey just lies, and his parents believe him? We can't beat that, Arya!"

"You're such a fucking baby, Gendry," Arya rolled her eyes, "Martell's got our back. We'll be fine."

Still, Arya was a little nervous waiting for the Baratheons to arrive for the meeting. Her father wasn't speaking to her, and he couldn't even look at Gendry. Everyone arrived, and the meeting began. 

"I still don't know what exactly happened," Mr. Baratheon said. 

Joffrey answered immediately. "Arya was having sex with her boyfriend in our dorm room against school rules. On _my_ bed."

"Is that true, girl?" the Headmaster asked Arya, not unkindly. 

"Yes," she smirked, "but it was Gendry's bed."

Robert burst into his booming laugh, and Oberyn joined in. Arya smiled winningly. Gendry let out a weak chuckle. Cersei looked ready to kill her husband, but that was how she always looked. 

"Just give them two penalty crews each and let's be done with this shit, eh, Oberyn?" Robert decided. "What say you, Ned?"

"I hardly think—" Cersei began. 

"Perfect," Oberyn smiled as he interrupted the Headmaster's wife. 

"That's fine with me," Ned said. 

Arya and Gendry grinned at each other—their punishment was minimal, to say the least. They'd be assigned some sort of task for each "screw" crew, as they were called by the students, often something as easy as walking a faculty member's dog. The worst screw crew, Arya knew from experience, was cleaning the squash courts, because one couldn't use water. Knowing Martell, though, he'd just make them babysit one of his younger daughters. 

Arya glanced at Joffrey as she left the room. His eyes said murder, but her heart said she'd won this round. 


	65. Bran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand, Bran's POV!

Bran decided not to go home for the winter long weekend at the end of January. With Arya grounded through the end of March, and Sansa going home to Greenwich with Margaery, Bangor didn't seem like it would be much fun. Robb, Jon, Theon, and his father had invited him to go ice fishing with them, but fishing wasn't really Bran's area of expertise. So he made other plans. 

"Hey, Dad, can I stay with the Reeds for long weekend?" he asked his father after biology class. 

"Did they invite you?" his father asked. 

"Yeah! Jojen and Meera both!"

"Then I don't see why not!" his father smiled, and Bran was glad that he hadn't asked _where_ he'd be staying with the Reeds. 

Long weekend began immediately after classes ended on Saturday morning, and ended at seven on Tuesday night. Bran grabbed his duffle bag and wheeled himself out to the Main Circle, where Meera was waiting with her father's car. How she'd managed to keep the car on campus when boarders were strictly prohibited from having them, Bran could never figure out. 

His friends helped him get in the car, and Meera drove off campus. 

"So," he asked her, "Where exactly are we headed?"

"Life isn't about the destination, man," Jojen answered, "it's about the journey."

"We're road-tripping up to Montreal for the Second Sons concert! I hope you have you passport!" Meera said excitedly. 

"Ah, yes, I was wondering why you told me to pack it."

Bran was thrilled. The Second Sons was his favorite band. They weren't as well-known as others, like the Golden Company or the Brotherhood Without Banners, but they're alternative sound was unbeatable. He'd been begging his parents to bring him to a concert for ages. 

"You got the goods, right, Jojen?" Meera asked her brother. 

"Of course!" he answered, holding up a brown paper bag that Bran assumed was filled with weed. 

Bran settled into his seat for the long drive ahead of them. _This is gonna be the best long weekend ever._

The gang arrived in Montreal some seven hours later, making it past the border and crossing into Canada. They pulled into the parking lot of the first motel they saw, checked in, and collapsed onto the beds in their room, exhausted from the long drive. 

That weekend was one of the best Bran ever had; it passed in a blurry haze of good ole sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Bran posted pictures of the concert on his Tumblr, and was pleased when they quickly gained notes from his thousands of followers. As a disabled, liberal pansexual with a good taste in music, Bran had developed quite a following on the website. 

The day after the concert Bran, Meera, and Jojen went sightseeing around the city. Bran had never even left the country before, so he enjoyed taking in all that he could of Canada's culture. 

They left Canada on Tuesday morning after breakfast, and were back at Aegon's in time for dinner, and Bran's parents were none the wiser about their son's wild weekend in another country. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Formal asking season is taking over Aegon's Academy!


	66. Jaime

Jaime loved Formal asking season. He loved finding out who the boys were asking, and he loved helping them plan a creative way to ask their potential dates. Formal was held every February for all four grades to attend in place of having a prom. The couple with the most creative ask won a pair of free tickets. Jaime was particularly excited to think of a creative way to ask Brienne, as they were both chaperoning the dance. 

Robb, in his position as head monitor, was responsible for thinking of the theme along with Arianne and the rest of the school monitors, which was revealed in a video to the whole school during Morning Assembly. 

Jaime was standing in the back of Rhaenys Auditorium during morning assembly the week after long weekend, while various groups of students made announcements about club meetings and sporting events. The last student made his announcement about a squash match, and suddenly the screen dropped down in front of the stage curtains, signifying that there would be a video shown. The crowd cheered, because videos were always the highlight of any assembly. The video started playing, and Robb Stark appeared onscreen, with Theon narrating. In the style of the Dos Equis commercials, Robb was shown performing crazy feats in black and white film. 

"Robb Stark started calling Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer. Robb Stark can out drink Tyrion Lannister, Oberyn Martell, _and_ Robert Baratheon. Robb Stark taught Stannis Baratheon Physics," the school was laughing uproariously at Theon's narration. "Robb Stark is a ginger _with_ a soul. Robb Stark has a direwolf as a pet. Robb Stark knows when Winter is Coming."

The video cut to the image of Robb sitting at a table in the dining hall, wearing a suit and tie. "I don't always go to Formal," he said, "but when I do, I hope it's with Jeyne Westerling."

The school cheered as Jeyne jumped from her seat and ran towards her boyfriend, jumping into his arms for a hug. "She said yes!" Theon yelled. Jaime grinned. He'd help Robb plan and film the video. 

Now if only he could think of a way to ask Brienne. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and thus Formal asking season has commenced!
> 
> Currently, I'm in the midst of field hockey preseason (which is literal hell, I don't recommend it ever), and actual classes start next week, so my updates might not be as frequent as usual. I'll update at a minimum of once a week, but hopefully it'll be way more than that. Just a heads up!


	67. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the lack of updates recently, I wrote three chapters for all of you lovely people! They're all on the short side, but they say brevity is the soul of wit, so you decide lol

"Tyrion?" Sansa approached him after class on a Tuesday afternoon, dressed much skankier than usual, Tyrion couldn't help but notice. 

"Yes, Sansa?" he asked. 

"Well," she twirled a lock of red hair around her finger, "I was just wondering if you're free tonight?" she pouted at him, "We haven't talked in such a long time!"

Was she flirting with him?

"I am free tonight—is something wrong?"

"Nothing you can't fix, Tyrion," she winked and bit her lip seductively. 

_What the fuck?_

"Well...then I," he was struggling to find words, an unusual feeling for him, "I'll see you tonight," he said finally. 

"Great!" she said, hugging him, before dashing out the door. 

_This is gonna be a weird fucking night._

When Sansa arrived at his apartment later that day, she was clad in a tight pink t-shirt, Lululemon leggings, and Bean Boots. _God damn prep school girls and their accursed Lululemons!_

"Sansa," he said slowly after she'd curled up next to him on the couch, "Why are you here, really?"

"To talk, Tyrion, why else?" she asked sarcastically. 

"Sansa..." 

"You know what, Tyrion? I'll tell you why I'm here. I'm here because I'm in love with you. You've been protecting me since freshman year and now I know I love you for it."

"I don't believe you." This wasn't Sansa's style at all. So why was she acting so boldly? Unless...

"You found out about Operation SanSan!" Tyrion exclaimed. 

Sansa sighed in what Tyrion thought was relief. "You caught me," she giggled. 

"Not gonna lie, I was sort of worried that you were actually going to try to seduce me."

Sansa laughed even harder. "You and Dany must have such sad lives to try to mess with mine and Sandor's."

"It was all Dany. I couldn't say no."

"Okay, sure, but now what? The plan didn't exactly work."

"I wouldn't say that," Tyrion grinned, "You and Sandor are both single now, and Formal is coming up. Anything could happen."

"Sandor is _not_ gonna ask me to Formal. He just sees me as a friend." Tyrion nearly groaned aloud at Sansa's thickheadedness. It was obvious that the hound saw her as more than a friend. 

"Sansa Stark this is the twenty-first century. Girls can ask boys out on dates."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mr. Feminist. How am I gonna ask him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear suggestions for how Sansa could ask Sandor to Formal!
> 
> Also shoutout to my old advisor because I stole Tyrion's feministy comment from a conversation I had with her once


	68. Brienne

After spending a week in Minnesota for a boring week of mandatory continuing education, Brienne was glad to be returning to Aegon's. She got off the plane at Bradley International Airport and looked around for Davos Seaworth, who often drove students and faculty to and from the airport. Frowning, Brienne scanned the crowd again, unable to locate Davos. 

"What the...?" Brienne muttered, as she spotted Jaime dodging his way through the crowd in a tuxedo. He made it to the front of the pack and held out the sign in his hand. Expecting it to have her name written on it, Brienne was shocked when she read instead "Formal?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, running over to her boyfriend and catching him in a kiss. "Yes, of course I'll go, Jaime! I love you!" she whispered, realizing with a pang that it was the first time she'd ever told him that. He was silent, and she worried he would not return the sentiment. 

_We've been together less than three months—maybe this was too soon?_

"I love you, too, Brienne," Jaime said decidedly, taking her hand and leading her to the car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to this adorable couple that used to go to my school who won the Formal asking contest by doing what Jaime did for Brienne their senior year!


	69. Theon

It was all the Lannister brothers' idea. 

"It'll be funny," Jaime said. 

"It's totally unexpected," Tyrion said. 

"You'll win the Formal-asking contest for sure," they'd said. 

And thus Theon found himself shirtless on the back of a horse in the middle of February, freezing his ass off in the chilly New England air. Guiding the horse was a freshman he'd coerced into dressing up as Cupid. Robb was walking alongside them, capturing it all in a video with his iPhone. It was noon on a Wednesday, which, like on Saturdays, was only a half day. Classes were over and the entire school was currently eating lunch. 

As he approached the Red Keep, Theon could see faces pressed up against the windows in amusement and confusion, and slowly people began to crowd the steps outside the building, spilling into the quad to witness the spectacle. 

But where was Jeyne? He'd told Sansa to bring her outside under the guise of needing to get something in Riverrun, but he didn't see the girls anywhere. 

He noticed a flash of red hair near the door, and saw Sansa leading Jeyne through the throng of students—and even some curious faculty. He stopped the horse in the middle of the quad, and Sansa gave Jeyne one final shove towards him before disappearing back into the crowd. 

"Jeyne Poole, will you do me the honor of being my date to Formal?" he asked, handing her a single red rose. 

Jeyne was blushing madly. She looked cute when she blushed. "Yes!" she squeaked, and the bystanders cheered. 

Now if only Theon could find a way off of the horse. 

During study hall that night, Theon was struggling with AP Psychology homework when Robb interrupted his thoughts. 

"Hey, Theon?" Robb asked, "You know the Twitter 'Prepfessions'?"

"Yeah?"

"Read their latest tweet."

Theon logged onto Twitter and read the tweet. "A kid asked his date to formal on a horse. -Aegon's." 

He couldn't help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon's ask was 100% based off of something someone did at my school last year, and Prepfessions is a real Twitter account. It's very funny and usually pretty accurate, so I recommend checking it out if you're in need of a laugh.


	70. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is looooooong overdue, and for that I apologize. I didn't realize how busy I'd be when school started, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! I'll try to update whenever I can, and thanks for being patient with me!

Dany wasn't expecting anyone to ask her to Formal.  By February, she'd broken her "no boys" promise exactly six times, seven if she included Mr. Lannister, although he wasn't a boy.  He was a man.  Dany had told her friends only the barest details about each one.

With Sandor it had been a one-time thing, and they'd spent more time talking about Sansa than they had making out. Jon was a mistake, as was Theon, and she'd felt horrible afterwards, like when she'd hooked up with Harry. Hooking up with Sam was something she did for the sole reason of giving him the confidence to talk to Gilly. And Grenn, well, hooking up with Grenn was a fun activity in which she'd indulged more than once. She hadn't told Sansa about the kiss she'd shared with Mr. Lannister, or about the kisses she'd shared with Margaery. Margaery was still figuring some things out, and Dany wanted to respect her privacy.  Plus, there was also the issue of Margaery’s boymonster.

Baelish let Dany’s Calculus class out early, so she stopped by Mr. Lannister’s office on the way to morning assembly.

“Everyone says they’re announcing the theme for Formal today,” she said by way of greeting, plopping onto a chair.

“I’m not saying you’re right, but I _will_ say that you’re not wrong,” Mr. Lannister grinned.

“Maybe the theme will be Single and Failing to Mingle,” Dany mused, “And then it won’t matter that I’m dateless.”

“You don’t have a date?” he look genuinely surprised.

“Nah,” she answered forlornly, “I think my complete lack of allure already shot that horse in the face.”

“Shut up, Daenerys,” he chuckled, “The boys are probably just intimidated by your beauty.”

 _He thinks I’m beautiful?_   She felt herself blushing.

“It’s probably just because I’m new. And my last name is kind of a deterrent.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have a date either, and I’m on duty.  So I get to go all the way to Farmington to sit in the corner supervising you hooligans and sneaking swigs of vodka out of a flask I’ll probably confiscate from some dumb PG.”

“I take it it’s the same every year?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Yup,” he said dryly, “Except last year. When I actually wasn’t single and miserable.”

“I’ll keep you company,” she promised, “All my friends have dates and I don’t want to third wheel.”

_Did I just kinda sorta not really ask him to be my date?_

“Sounds good to me,” he smirked, looking all too pleased.  He stood up and straightened his tie.  “Onwards to morning assembly?”

“To morning assembly,” she agreed, picking up her bag.

That day’s morning assembly was one of the most boring experiences of Dany’s life.  Stannis Baratheon was giving a speech about some academic-y physics thing he’d done over winter break, and Dany could hear the students shifting in their seats five minutes into the speech.  It was bad enough that all new students were forced to take physics as their science, and this speech felt more like a classroom lecture than an inspiring oration.  But when he’d finally finished and exited the stage, the projection screen lowered and the crowd went wild.

The video opened on a black and white sequence featuring Renly Baratheon running around the basement in a tuxedo, fighting off goons played by Theon Greyjoy and Loras Tyrell, while intense music played in the background.  After he’d defeated the goons, Renly opened a door to find Sandor Clegane sitting menacingly in a chair wearing an eye patch.  Suddenly everyone understood that Renly was in fact James Bond, and Sandor was the Bond villain.  In a horrible German accent, Sandor played a game of wits with Renly’s British-accented Bond, and the altercation ended with Sandor revealing that the missing Formal theme could be found at Aegon’s Academy before Renly shot him.

The scene cut to Renly standing in the fields gazing down upon Aegon’s while conversing on an earpiece with Miss Moneypenny, played by Gilly. Renly set to work “fitting in” at Aegon’s, even ordering a smoothie from Flea Bottom to be made “shaken, not stirred.” Arianne played a very convincing Bond girl. Gilly informed Renly that his true enemy was a man named Stark who’d escaped from an insane asylum in Canada. The following sequences showed Renly’s confrontation with Robb, who was running rampant around campus in a kilt. The video ended with Renly stumped, trying to think of what the theme could be, before the screen faded to black and the words “Prepare for a night of elegance, 007 style,” were superimposed while music played in the background.  The crowd cheered even louder.

 _“I love this school,”_ Dany thought, smiling.


	71. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decided to write a little update instead of studying for her APUSH final???? That's right: this girl!   
> Okay so my lack of updates is bad, and it's been a loooong time--my sincerest apologies. The actual boarding school experience is way less fun and involves a lot more work than Aegon's. But here's a little update for you guys, and Christmas Break starts in a week, so I'll try to update more then! Thanks for sticking with me!

_Just do it, Sansa, just go up to him and ask him. He’ll say yes.  He likes you. Everyone says so._ Sansa was frantically spinning her ring around and around on her finger as she walked into History early and saw Sandor sitting in his seat.  The classroom was otherwise vacant.

“Just do it,” she whispered, before taking a deep breath and her usual seat next to Sandor.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her. “Sansa, I have to ask you something,” he said quickly.

“I have to ask you something, too!” she chuckled nervously.

“Oh,” he looked confused, “Well, ladies first.”

_Just do it._

“Sandor, will you go to Formal with me?” she let the words out in a sudden rush.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I get it if you don’t—I mean like maybe you just see us as friends but everyone kept saying ‘Sansa, it’s the twenty-first century just ask him if you want to,’ but I couldn’t think of a cute way to ask and so I just _did_ it and you can say no—I put you on the spot you can say no I get it,” she was breathless, now, rambling.

Sandor burst out laughing in response.

“If you don’t want to go with me you can just _say_ it! Don’t laugh at me for taking a risk!”

“Sansa,” he said, finally done laughing, “ _I_ was going to ask you to Formal right now.  You beat me to it.”

“So…you’re saying yes?”

“Yes!” And he impulsively kissed her.

She returned the kiss eagerly, barely able to contain her smile.

“Alright, alright,” Tyrion said, entering the classroom as the first bell was ringing, “There is no PDA in AP US History!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short.


	72. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand I'm back!

Sandor still couldn’t believe it. _The little bird asked_ me _to Formal_ , he kept reminding himself, _she asked_ _me_.  When Sandor returned to his room that night after dinner, he was grinning.

“What’s up with you?” Theon asked, immediately noticing his roommate’s uncharacteristic smile.

“Nothing,” Sandor muttered, in no mood for Theon to spoil his good one.

“Did you get laid?” Now Theon was grinning too.

“Who got laid?” Robb said, entering the room, a towel wrapped low around his waist and his wet auburn curls flattened against his forehead, blue eyes lit up with a smile.

“No one got laid,” Sandor said quickly, “Nothing happened." 

“Oh, cut the shit, Clegane. I know _something_ happened,” Theon said, and then, to Robb, “he came in here grinning like an idiot.”

“Spill, Clegane,” Robb insisted, “Or I’ll flash you.”  He toyed with the hem of the towel playfully.

“Fine,” Sandor capitulated, “But only because I don’t want to see you naked.  Once was enough.”

“So what happened?”

“A girl asked me to Formal.”

“I call bullshit,” Theon said.

“I’m serious, man.”

“Okay, well who was it? It couldn’t have been Arianne because she’s back with Arys.  Are you sure it wasn’t just on a dare?" 

“No,” Sandor said angrily. _Leave it to Theon to piss me off._

“Well who was she?” Robb asked quickly, eager to placate Sandor’s boiling temper.

“Why should I tell you twats?” he sat on his bed, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Oh just tell us,” Robb said, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“I promise not to laugh if she’s ugly!” Theon smirked.

“Fine.  Sansa asked me to Formal today.”

Theon was suddenly pale while Robb turned beet red. 

“Are you—she didn’t—but she would—Sansa and—I swear to the gods Clegane if you try _anything_ ,” Robb sputtered.

Sandor chuckled before regaining his seriousness.  “I’ve witnessed Sansa’s suffering firsthand, and I promise you I would never do anything to hurt her.”

“Good.”  Robb was appeased—for now. 

“Way to go, Clegane,” Theon broke his silence, “Sansa is a hot piece of a—” he was once again silenced by Robb glaring daggers at him across the room. 

Sandor went to bed with a grin on his lips that night, and he dreamt that he was kissing Sansa in the middle of a crowded dancefloor.  In his dreams, his face was unblemished on both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review, and comment whose POV you want next (probably for the first Formal chapter)


	73. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the lovely jillypups, i made a picset for this chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> ****
> 
> [picset!](http://mygiantoflannisters.tumblr.com/post/108483638045/aegeans-academy-formal-inspiration)

While a student at Aegon’s, Tyrion had always hated Formal.  After asking a girl to go with him freshman year and being brutally rejected, he’d forsaken having a date altogether.  Out of pity, or solidarity, or maybe because the only girl he wanted to go with happened to be their sister, Jaime never had a date, either.  Of course, this angered rather than pleased the women of Aegon’s Academy.  But he and Jaime had each other, which was enough.  Barely. The past few years had been tolerable, because he’d had Shae.  When she left, he’d thought he’d be alone forever.

And yet, and yet this year Tyrion had a date.  Was she really his date? Hard to say, but they were going to get dressed up and spend the night with each other, which sounded like a date to him. Unlike in previous years, when he had merely taken a shower and thrown on a suit, Tyrion took his time getting dressed. He combed his hair and put on his best black suit.  _Bowtie or regular tie?_ He asked himself. He quickly texted Jaime. _He’ll know_.

Jaime’s response was prompt: _You don’t have a date, why do you care?_

 _I just want to look nice, ok?_ He texted his brother.

 _Alright fine, don’t tell me,_ Jaime answered snarkily, _but wear the regular tie_.

 Tyrion slipped his silver flask into his pocket and stopped to straighten his tie in the mirror. “As always,” he told himself, “This is as good as it’s gonna get,” before locking the door behind him and heading to the buses.

 In the hallway, he met up with his neighbors, Robb, Theon, and Sandor.  “Looking good, Mr. Lannister!” Robb said happily as Tyrion walked with them out of the dorm.

 “Got a hot date, Mr. L?” Theon asked mischievously.

 “No, boys, I’m afraid my days of being a lady’s man are behind me,” he said sheepishly.

 “Oh, hey, there’re the girls!” Robb said, spotting his girlfriend and her friends grouped together on the side of the school’s main lobby, where everyone was waiting for the arrival of the buses.

 Tyrion’s breath hitched in his throat when his beautiful silver-haired angel turned, smiling, to greet them. _Well_ , he thought, _Here goes nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins...
> 
> up next: Sansa


	74. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long, but I'm back!

Sunday morning, Sansa, Jeyne, Margaery and Dany went to brunch early, and then rushed back to Riverrun to get ready for that evening’s festivities.  Formal was Sansa’s favorite event of the year.  There was just something so magical about getting all dolled up with friends, about putting on your dress and shoes, about posing outside in the frozen, snow-covered quad to take pictures.  _I have the most beautiful friends_ , Sansa thought as Margaery reached out a long arm to take a selfie of the four of them.  It was true.

Margaery looked radiant in a deep blue dress with a plunging neckline and silver heels, Jeyne was beaming in a red dress, hair in a stylish updo, and Dany was ethereally beautiful in a gauzy black dress, looking remarkably like Marilyn Monroe with her blonde hair in a pin-up hairstyle _. I look pretty good, too,_ Sansa thought to herself.The dress in question was skater style and sleeveless, with a floral black lace bodice and flared black skirt.  She’d styled her hair in artfully messy curls, and swiped on mascara and her classic red lipstick _. I hope Sandor thinks I look pretty._

The girls cascaded proudly out of Riverrun into the quad, meeting up with Arianne, Ygritte, Arya, and Jeyne Westerling. The stopped to take pictures, before continuing into the school to find their dates.

“There they are!” Arianne exclaimed, “I see Arys and Joff!”  She and Arys had gotten back together in time for Formal, as per the usual.

Sansa shuddered at the mention of Joffrey, but immediately brightened when she spotted her brothers, Sandor, and Theon standing a ways apart from Joffrey’s gang at the side of the lobby where the school was gathering, waiting for the arrival of the buses.

“Sandor!” Sansa exclaimed, pushing through the crush of students, followed by her friends.  “Hey,” she said breathily, suddenly nervous. _It’s Sandor_ , she told herself, _there’s no need to be nervous._   And yet she could not stop her heart from beating faster.

His face softened when he saw her. “Y-you look—”  Sansa noticed Robb glaring at Sandor over the top of Jeyne’s head, and she quickly flashed him a death glare.  “You look beautiful, little bird.”

Sansa’s small smile grew into a grin. _He thinks I’m beautiful!_   “And you look so handsome, Sandor.”  _He called me little bird!_

“There’s no need to lie,” he said quickly.

Rolling her eyes, she took his hand and began following the crowd out of the lobby to the buses. “I would never lie to you,” her eyes met his, “I promise.”  He did look handsome. The black tuxedo and bowtie accentuated his powerful body, and he’d combed his hair and shaved his stubble. Sansa hardly even noticed his scars anymore.  _We look good together,_ she thought approvingly.

Onboard the bus, the couple found themselves seated in front of Theon and Jeyne and next to Jon and Ygritte. “Hey, where’s Dany?” Jeyne asked, leaning forward to talk to Sansa.

Sansa looked around in confusion. “I thought she was with you?”

“I guess we lost her getting on the bus,” Jeyne paused, “Whatever—we’ll find her when we get there.”

“Wow Clegane,” Arya boarded the bus late, Gendry in tow, taking the seats in front of Sansa, “You clean up nice.”

Sandor reddened in surprise. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same about you,” he snarked, regaining his composure. 

“Wow, San, he’s a real keeper,” Arya laughed, unfazed by Sandor’s comment, twisting around in her seat.

“Shut up, Arya,” she giggled, turning to Sandor, “You see?  Arya thinks you look good, too—I wasn’t lying.”

“You Stark girls are crazy,” he muttered.

Sansa leaned her head against his chest, content, and they talked and laughed the whole way to Formal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...more Formal hijinks to continue...


	75. Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is sort of just a filler chapter to set the scene for Formal. The good stuff is coming up!

The school monitors had really gone the extra mile with this year’s Formal. The James Bond theme song was blasting when the students arrived, and the banquet room had been decorated like a swanky club from a James Bond movie.  In the hall outside, a giant 007 ice sculpture stood sentinel near the doors, and in another room there was a photo booth and a caricature artist. 

 _Formal is way nicer than when I went to Aegon’s,_ Brienne thought, lacing her arm through Jaime’s as she sat down at a table with the other chaperones.

“They did a great job this year,” Jaime commented.

“I was just thinking that!” Brienne smiled.

The couple surveyed the scene: students were milling about, taking pictures, finding tables, and starting to sit down for dinner.  The band was playing real music, Brienne noticed approvingly, not the weird “music” kids listened to these days.  Dinner was average, like always.  Brienne ate her chicken parmesan and couldn’t help but grin when Oberyn passed around a bottle of vodka, “To get the party going.”

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” Jaime whispered once their plates had been cleared and the students were beginning to crowd the dance floor.

“We can’t just leave!”

“Sure we can! I haven’t seen Tyrion all night, and everyone’s busy dancing and stuff.  And besides, it’s not like we’re the only teachers here.”

Brienne eyed her tablemates: Oberyn and Ellaria, Robert and Cersei, even Stannis and Melisandre.  Jaime had a point. The kids would be fine without them.

“Alright,” she whispered.

“Brienne and I are gonna go walk around,” Jaime announced to the table, but they barely even noticed him. 

“Go have fun,” Robert waved them away, before asking Oberyn to pass the vodka back around.

“So,” Brienne asked once they’d reached the lobby, “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Jaime’s eyes were glinting mischievously, “I was thinking we get a hotel room and pretend we’re teenagers at the Prom.”

“Sounds good to me,” Brienne giggled.  She’d never had a date to Formal in high school, let alone rented a room with a boy for the night.  _Well, there’s a first time for everything._

Jaime grinned his most devious grin, and her heart fluttered.  She leaned over and kissed him full on the lips. “I thought you might like that idea,” he smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Theon, then most likely Sandor, and then probably either Tyrion or Dany!


	76. Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really on a roll with updates this week (it's amazing what I'll do to procrastinate during one of the most stressful weeks of my year)

_Some alcohol would be great right about now,_ Theon thought, walking down the deserted hotel corridor, _Or weed. I’m not picky._

Jeyne was stumbling along behind him, trying to keep up in her ridiculously high—but admittedly _very_ sexy—red heels. Jon, Ygritte, and Robb were bringing up the rear.

“Theon, what in seven hells are we doing skulking around the hotel basement like this? We’re not even allowed to be down here!” Head Monitor, Tri-Varsity Captain Robb was making an appearance, Theon realized with a grimace.  Where was rowdy ginger, borderline alcoholic Robb when you needed him?

“That’s not true!” Ygritte came to Theon’s defense, “All they ever say in the emails is ‘students must take the bus to and from Formal’—they never said anything about doing some harmless exploring!” 

Thank the gods for Ygritte.

“Listen, Robb, buddy,” Theon began, turning and placing his hands on Robb’s shoulders. “All I want to do,” he reached for the handle on the door next to them, twisted, and found it miraculously unlocked. “Is go in here. I’ve been planning this since freshman year.”

Theon opened the door all the way, allowing his friends to step inside. Occupying the center of the half-lit room was the hotel pool, glowing green in the dimness and reeking of chlorine.

“You have to jump in!” Ygritte said excitedly. 

“I don’t know...” Jon said slowly, “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Who said anything about jumping in?”  Theon exclaimed. 

“Oh don’t be such pussies,” Jeyne said, “I’d jump in, but my hair would be ruined and my makeup would come off.”

“Yeah,” Ygritte chimed in, “do it for the Snapchat Story!  Let’s end our senior Formal with a bang!  Strip down to your boxers and let’s do this!”

“Strip!  Strip!  Strip!” Jeyne began chanting, and Ygritte soon joined her.

Theon looked over to Jon, who was grinning.  He shrugged his shoulders, and began chanting with the girls.

Next he looked to Robb, who was beginning to smile.  “Together?” Theon asked, loosening his bowtie.

“If you jump, I jump,” Robb answered, taking off his jacket and tie. 

“Gaaaaaayyyyy,” Ygritte called out, her voice echoing around the room. 

“Shut up, Ygritte,” Robb and Theon said, standing in their boxers next to messy piles of their discarded clothes.

“Running start?” Robb asked. Theon nodded.  

“Snapchat ready to go?” Theon asked. Ygritte nodded. 

Robb grabbed Theon’s hand and raised it into the air as they ran, bellowing, and jumped into the pool. The water was cool and refreshing as Theon sank below the surface.  _This is my last Formal,_ he remembered with a pang of sadness.  Bursting back out of the water, he gasped for air and looked at the friends around him. Robb was panting in the water next to him, his hair a dark red mess plastered to his forehead. Jon was smirking in the corner, seemingly glad he didn’t participate, while Ygritte was a wild guffawing tangle of carrot colored hair and tears of laughter being wiped from her pale cheeks. Jeyne was glowing in the light, a radiant giggling goddess, and Theon couldn’t help but admit that he’d chosen well when she stepped out of her heels and sat on the edge of the pool, sticking her feet in the wavy water.  _This is my last Formal, but I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else._  

And the Snapchats—the Snapchats were legendary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all based on real events.


	77. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you guys are all amazing and so patient with me, I wrote a nice, long, SanSan-heavy chapter. This also happens to be the 9-month anniversary of me starting this story. Where has the time gone? Seriously.

_These fuckers are really starting to grow on me_ , Sandor thought, glancing at Robb and Theon bickering as Robb helped Theon with his bowtie.  If someone had told him last summer that he was going to room with Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy and actually _enjoy_ it, he’d have told them to get their head out of their ass. Preppy assholes like Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy weren’t friends with guys like Sandor Clegane. But here they were.

Formal had never been Sandor’s favorite Aegon’s event, for obvious reasons.  Freshman year hadn’t been too bad—most of the boys had been too shy to ask anyone, and the big drama of the night was when Robb went with Arianne, who then ditched him for Arys Oakheart, and Robb ended up leaving with Jeyne Westerling.  They’d been together ever since.  Sophomore year Sandor had nothing better to do then hang around with Joffrey, who was with Sansa, and the other goons he surrounded himself with.  Junior year had been much the same, until Joffrey ditched Sansa for Margaery Tyrell, Aegon’s new It Girl.  He’d never seen Sansa happier than when Joffrey left her to chase after Margaery. But this year, senior year, his last year, was going to be a good one.  Sansa was his date, how could it not be good?

“What are you smiling about?” Theon asked, interrupting Sandor’s thoughts.

“Oh, nothing,” he said quickly.

“Bullshit.  I bet you’re thinking about Sansa.”

“Guilty as charged,” Sandor rolled his eyes.

Robb took a deep breath as the boys headed out the door.  “Now, listen,” he began, looking up at Sandor.  “I like you, okay?  I do. But Sansa is my little sister and she’s been through a lot of shit and she doesn’t need any more shit in her life, alright? So don’t try anything, or I’ll have to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Stark,” Sandor smirked.

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah, yeah, Robb, we get it,” Theon put his hands on Robb’s shoulders, leading his best friend down the hallway, before turning back to Sandor and giving him a look as if to say “God, would you listen to this guy?”

Sandor’s palms were sweaty by the time the boys reached the lobby to wait for their dates and the bus. What if Sansa didn’t show up? _Pull yourself together, dog!_   He told himself, taking a deep breath as he made eye contact with Sansa across the room. 

But then Sansa was there, and they were boarding the bus and she was laughing and chattering and it was just so _easy_ with her, Sandor couldn’t help but smile.

It seemed he and Sansa had just settled into their seats on the bus and started talking about college basketball before they were pulling into the hotel.  Their table was perfect: Robb and Jeyne, Jon and Ygritte, Theon and Jeyne, a seemingly distracted Daenerys, and he and Sansa.  It was a welcome change to be away from Joffrey, Meryn Trant, Boros Blount, and all the other douchebags he usually hung out with.

Dinner was ending and the band was starting to play when he heard a girl shrieking.

Looking up from his plate, Sandor spotted Margaery across the ballroom.  “Somebody help him!” she screamed.

“Is that Joffrey?” Ygritte asked, craning her neck for a better view.

“Looks like it,” Robb said, “Is he puking?”

“I think so,” Jon grinned.

“Help!” Margaery screamed again as Joffrey lost consciousness and fell to the floor, and then everything seemed to speed up.  Cersei Lannister-Baratheon ran across the room to her son in tears, sinking to the ground next to him. Robert Baratheon hovered behind her, several feet away, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“Well don’t just stand there you fool!” she hissed at her husband, “Call an ambulance!”

Sandor looked over at Sansa. She was staring, emotionless, at the scene unfolding in front of her.  She remained emotionless as Cersei and Margaery continued shrieking, as the ambulance arrived, as the EMTs rushed in, strapped Joffrey to a stretcher, and departed with the Baratheons in tow.

“Are you okay?” he whispered to her.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, “My heart goes out to Ms. Lannister, but I hope that fucker gets what he deserves.”

Sandor chuckled, “Couldn’t agree more.”

By the time Margaery joined their table, rumors were spreading like wildfire.  People were saying Joffrey was having emergency surgery, that he’d been poisoned, and some even said he was dead.

Margaery was surprisingly cavalier about the whole thing.  “He probably just ate some bad chicken,” she shrugged, before pulling Dany onto the dance floor.

Sandor didn’t give two shits about the little brat.  Dead or alive, it made no matter to him.

“I’m sick of talking about Joff, can we dance?” Sansa asked him, biting her lip, and she looked so damn sexy he couldn’t refuse.

“Sure,” he said. Sansa squealed in delight, taking his hands and leading him away from the table.  “I’m gonna warn you, though, I have no idea how to dance.”

“Oh please!  Anyone can dance!”

And dance they did. Robb and Theon eventually joined them with their dates, and Sansa alternated between dancing with her friends and with Sandor as the band played on.  He thought he must’ve looked awkward as all hell, but Sansa didn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s go to the photo booth!” Sansa said excitedly a while later.

“I don’t know…” Sandor hated having his picture taken.

“Oh, come on, please? It’ll be fun!”

Maybe it was the red hair, maybe it was the sex heels, or maybe it was the fact that he, Sandor Clegane, was on a date with Sansa Stark, but minutes later he was standing in line for the photo booth, one of Formal’s most popular attractions.

“At least let me use senior cuts for this,” he said, eying the long line dubiously.

“Sandor, no!” she playfully hit his arm, “That’s terrible karma!”

“No it’s not!  I cut the lunch line all the time and I’m fine!”

“Ugh, you and all the other football players!  There’s nothing worse than waiting patiently in line for a burger on Burger Day when a giant football player cuts in front of you!”

“Well, next year you can cut people.”

“No!  Because I’m a decent human being with a solid knowledge of how lines work!”

“So,” he decided to change the subject, since it appeared they were going to be in line for a while longer, “Are you excited for crew season?”

“Yeah!  The trip to Tampa over Spring Break is gonna be great!”

Finally, it was their turn to use the photo booth.  “Okay,” Sansa said, sitting next to him, “For the first one, just do normal faces.”

They proceeded to do duck faces and then “the weirdest face possible.”

“What should we do for the last one?” he asked.

“I know!” she said, kissing him on the cheek as he grinned sheepishly into the camera when he realized her red lipstick had left its mark on him.

Afterwards, they returned to the ballroom where a DJ had taken over for the band.

“I wonder where Dany is,” Sansa thought aloud, “I’ve barely seen her all night.”

“You’ll see her later,” Sandor assured her.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Sansa’s mood instantly brightened when “Blank Space” started playing, and she dashed away to dance with Jeyne and Margaery, so Sandor sat down at the table with the boys.

“How’s your night going?” Jon asked.

“Pretty well, how about yours?” Sandor asked.

“It’s been good!”

“Hey Clegane,” Theon turned to his roommate, grinning devilishly, “You and Sansa leaving on the early bus?” He gestured to the red lipstick on Sandor’s good cheek.

The early bus left at nine o’clock, two hours before the rest of the buses, and was always utilized by couples who wanted to return to campus to hook up.

Robb looked pointedly at Sandor. “Yeah, Clegane, are you?”

“Why is your guys’ hair wet?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Robb snapped as Jon said “They jumped in the pool.”

“You guys went in the pool? Theon doesn’t surprise me, but you, too, Robb? Head mon, tri-varsity captain Robb Stark broke the rules?”

“Sandor, we get drunk in our room all the time!  It’s not like I’ve never broken a school rule!”

“Yeah, but still!  The pool.  Wow.  I’m impressed, Stark.”

“And now we’re gonna slooooow things down a bit,” the DJ announced, “So everyone grab your special someone and get out on the dance floor.”

As the first notes of “Beneath Your Beautiful” began playing, Sansa ran over to the table, grabbing Sandor and taking him back onto the dance floor.

“I love this song so much,” she said, wrapping her arms around Sandor’s neck.

“Yeah, it’s a good one,” he agreed, holding her close by the waist.  He hadn’t slow danced with a girl since middle school, and that had been awkward and uncomfortable at best, but with Sansa everything was different. She rested her face in the crook of his neck, and he had never been more content in his life.

 

_You've carried on so long_

_You couldn't stop if you tried it._

_You've built your wall so high_

_That no one could climb it,_

_But I'm gonna try_

Sansa looked up and met his eyes. _She’s so beautiful,_ he thought, _I should kiss her._ But she beat him to it.  They kissed and kissed and all he could think about was her, about his hands on her waist and her hands in his hair, about how lucky he was to have found her.

The song ended, and they broke apart. Sansa met his eyes once again, and hers were full of something that could only be described as lust.

“Your teachers want me to remind you that the early bus is leaving in five minutes,” the DJ announced.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sansa said, breaking into a grin when he nodded his head in agreement _.  I’d follow you anywhere._

She grabbed his arm and they dashed into the lobby to wait for the bus.  Theon saw them, flashed a thumbs up, and continued talking to Robb, as if to distract him.

“I never thought I’d say this, but Theon’s a good guy,” Sandor said to Sansa.

“What makes you say that?” she chuckled. “He’s obnoxious, entitled, and a serial flirt.”

“Yes, but he’s trying to make sure Robb doesn’t see us leave.”

“Remind me to thank him the next time I see him.”

When they first boarded the bus, Sandor attempted conversation, but soon enough Sansa had caught his mouth in a kiss.  The ride flew by, and they stumbled out of the bus into Main Circle hand in hand.

“Where to, little bird?”

“We could go to my room,” she said, “It’s totally against the rules but Ms. Tarth is chaperoning Formal so no one’s there to catch us.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Breathless and giddy, they ran down Main Hall back out into the night air to Riverrun.  _I can’t believe we’re really doing this._

“So, this is my room,” Sansa said, suddenly shy.

He sat next to her on her bed. “What do you want to do, little bird?”

“Well,” she began slowly, “First I think you should be wearing less clothing.”

“As you wish,” he took of his jacket, bowtie, and shoes and unbuttoned his shirt.  “What else?”

“Um,” she reached over to pull off his shirt completely, throwing it onto the floor with his other clothes. “Yeah, that’s better.”

Sandor, despite his ugly face, had always been proud of the muscular physique he worked hard to maintain, and he was glad to see the little bird appreciating it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Of course!  But wait.”  She kicked off her heels and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothing.  She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined.  Her lacy black bra and panties stood out against her creamy skin, and a light blush was coloring her cheeks.  Sandor briefly remembered Theon saying something about how when a girl wore matching underwear, it meant she knew she was getting action, but he pushed thoughts of Theon aside.

“Sansa, you’re beautiful,” he said softly, running his thumb over her lower lip.

“Just kiss me already, Sandor,” she smirked gently at him.

Their other kisses had been mere child’s play compared to this, Sandor realized, as Sansa deepened the kiss. His hands explored her body, and he was consumed with the desire to be closer to her.  Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra, fumbling a bit with the clasp as Sansa pressed kisses to his neck, giggling softly. Finally, he got it, and dropped the bra to the floor.  Sansa lay back on the bed, her hair spread out like a mermaid’s across the pillows, and pulled him on top of her.  He took the chance to cover her in kisses, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. Sansa moaned with pleasure, and he kissed her on the lips once again, his hands finding the waistband of her underwear.

“Sandor,” she broke away from him, placing her hand on his, “Sandor wait.  I want to take this slow, is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” he said, a little bit disappointed but mostly relieved.  Sansa was his first real hookup, and he was still pretty clueless when it came to girls and sex.

“Let’s just…lay here for a while.” She pressed her face into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, their legs tangled together.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For…for being you.”

They must’ve drifted off to sleep, because the next thing Sandor knew someone had flipped on the lights and he heard girls squealing in surprise.

“Sandor Clegane you sly dog!” Jeyne Poole exclaimed.

“Seven hells,” Sansa swore.

“What time is it?” Sandor asked groggily.

“It’s eleven twenty-six,” Margaery answered, “So _you_ best get out of here ASAP.”

“Ms. Tarth’s in her apartment, but I’d still go down the back stairs and out through the basement just to make sure she won’t catch you,” Jeyne instructed.

Sandor quickly dressed and tossed his jacket and bowtie over his arm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sansa grinned sleepily up at him, kissing him one last time.

“See you tomorrow,” he echoed, “Bye Jeyne, Margaery.”

It was a frigid February night but Sandor could barely feel the cold as he walked to Dragonstone and signed in with the Kingslayer. 

“There he is!” Theon exclaimed when Sandor made it back to the room.  “There’s my man!”

“Hey guys, I’m exhausted, so if you don’t mind—”

“I bet you are,” Theon murmured.

“—I’m gonna go to bed early.”

“So, Sandor, where’ve you been all night?” Robb asked.

 _Busted_.

“If you must know, I was with Sansa. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“I can live with that.”

“Ah, nothing like two guys bonding over the fact that one of them is hooking up with the other’s little sister,” Theon sighed.

“Shut up, Theon,” Robb and Sandor said together.

As Sandor changed into sweats and got into bed, all he could think about was Sansa, about her soft skin under his hands, her long legs wrapped around his waist, about falling asleep next to her.

_Seven hells, this girl might be the death of me yet. Might be I could fall in love with her someday.  Might be I already have._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, either Tyrion or Dany!


	78. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally done with school! Which means I should be able to update more frequently, but no promises. I hope everyone likes this chapter--the story has been building up to this for a long time.

“Wow, Mr. Lannister, you clean up nice!” Dany said as her favorite teacher approached her in the lobby.  _That scruffy beard really works for him._

“Daenerys, beautiful as ever,” he smiled.  _He just called me beautiful—oh wow this is getting real._

Together they boarded the last bus to Formal, which was practically devoid of students. By the time they reached the hotel everyone had made it into the banquet room and started the party.

“So,” she turned to him, “What do you want to do?”

“Well,” he began, “I suppose we could get something to eat, and then I was thinking I might shirk my chaperone duties and get a little tipsy.”

“Sounds good to me, but what if people wonder where we are?”

“There’s so many people here, it’s easy to get lost.”

“Then let’s go.”

They piled their plates with food from the buffet and found a few chairs stacked at the end of a hallway to sit in while they ate. 

“Thirsty?” he asked, offering her his flask.

“Whaddya got?”

“Whiskey.”

“Perfect,” she grabbed the flask and took a deep swig.

“Funny, I didn’t place you as a hard liquor kind of girl,” he looked at her thoughtfully.

“Oh really? What did you place me as?”

“You seem more like the fruity, umbrella drink type.”

“Your blatant sexism hurts, it really does,” she feigned sadness, placing a hand over her heart before taking another drink.

“Careful,” he took the flask back, “I don’t want you getting totally drunk.”

“Good point—I’m such a lightweight.”

An hour or so passed as they passed the flask back and forth and listened to the thumping of the music inside the banquet room. 

“Did I ever tell you about my ex-wife?” Mr. Lannister asked suddenly.

“You were _married_?”

“Briefly.”

“What happened?”

“Once upon a time I was a junior in college and Jaime took me to Vegas for my twenty-first birthday. We were walking back to our hotel one night when we heard a girl’s screams coming from any alleyway. We rushed into the alley and saw a girl being accosted by a group of men.  Jaime drove the men away while I went to care for the girl.  She was so broken and so beautiful—Tysha was her name—she had a face that could break your heart.  She was scared, so we brought her back to the hotel with us, and somehow over the course of a week we fell in love and got married at a drive-thru chapel. For a while, we were happy, that is, until my father found out.  ‘Tell your brother what you did,’ I remember him saying, dragging Jaime in front of me, ‘Tell him.’ And then Jaime told me. Tysha didn’t love me. Tysha was no more than a common Vegas prostitute, hired by Jaime for me to get laid, and who stuck around once she found out how rich we Lannisters are.”

“Oh my god,” Dany’s eyes were wide with shock, “That’s horrible.”

“Oh, that’s not all,” he grimaced darkly, “No, the great Tywin Lannister could not bear to have his family’s name disgraced without some sort of punishment.  So you know what he did?  He made each of his men rape her while I watched, and each paid her for her services—she was no more than a common whore, after all, and this was her job.  And then, last but not least, it was my turn.  I had to pay her double, because I am a Lannister, and Lannisters are worth more. He sent her away after that. I don’t know what happened to her.”

“Tyrion, I-I’m so sorry,” she felt near tears, he looked so pitiful, so heartbroken.  _No wonder he has such bad self-esteem.  No wonder he uses humor as a defense mechanism._

“Don’t be.  It wasn’t your fault.”

She reached out to give him a hug, and before she knew it they were kissing, kissing like nothing she had ever experienced before, and then they were at once breathless and giddy, running down to corridor towards the lobby to get a room.

She held his hand as they rode the elevator and dashed into the hall, finding their room and sliding the key in the lock.  Dany flopped onto the bed as Tyrion left to use the bathroom.  _Alright Dany, this is it. What do you want to do?_ But she already knew, she had known since she met him.  _We’ve been building up to this all year_ , she told herself as she took off her dress and heels and lay back on the bed, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom, _He wants this, too, you’re not being crazy._

Tyrion’s eyes widened as he stepped into the room.  “Dany, are-are you sure?”

“Sure I want you to come join me, yes,” she said as seductively as she could, biting her lip in fear of rejection.

He threw his jacket over the back of a chair, took off his shoes, and loosened his tie before laying next to her on the bed.

“You know we could get in huge trouble for this,” he reminded her.

“I know.”

“And you don’t care?”

“No—I just want to be with you, Mr. Lannister,” she said softly,

“Call me Tyrion,” he insisted, before he rolled on top of her and captured her mouth in a kiss.

Sex with Tyrion was perfect. He was more passionate than Drogo, and more skilled than any of the other boys she’d hooked up with that year. It was slow and sweet and full of something she thought might be love.

_This man might be the death of me._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review, and be sure to tell me what POV you want next!


	79. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are two short little chapters to show reactions to Tyrion and Dany sleeping together.

Tyrion had two thoughts upon waking: first, that he had not had such a good night’s sleep since Shae left him, and second, that _holy fuck that wasn’t a dream I actually slept with Daenerys Targaryen last night!_

She stirred next to him before opening her violet eyes and yawning prettily.  “Shit, Tyrion, what happened last night?  Did we…?” her voice trailed off, the unfinished question hanging in the air.

_I knew this was too good to be true. Of course she would rather a handsome young boy than ugly old me._

“Yeah.”

Her eyes met his, “Good. I’ve been fantasizing about it all year—it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

_Am I hearing her correctly?_

“But shit—if I never came back to Aegon’s last night I must be so fucked,” she frowned, reaching to check her phone.

“Fuck I didn’t think about that.”

“Wait!  Drunk me texted Jeyne telling her to sign me in, and she must’ve done it because I don’t have any missed calls or frantic texts.”

Grinning, he kissed her. “You clever girl.”

“So,” she sat up, “What now?”

He rested his head on his hands, admiring the way Daenerys looked framed by the light streaming in through the gauzy curtains, “Well first I think we should get dressed, and then go get some breakfast—”

“No, I mean what now, like, about us.”

“Oh,” he said, face falling, “I hadn’t thought about that yet.”

“We’re both totally fucked if the administration finds out.”

“That’s true.”

“But what’s life without a little risk, right?  I say we keep this going as long as we can, that is…if you want to.  I also don’t want to be that girl who goes into a one night stand thinking she’s found The One.”

“Is that what you think this is? A one night stand?” he sat up next to her. “Do you really think you mean so little to me?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Daenerys Targaryen you are beautiful and clever and endlessly fascinating—of course you mean more to me than just a one night stand. Now let me buy you breakfast.”

 


	80. Sansa

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” Jeyne smirked as Daenerys finally returned, stumbling into the room in her formal dress, after being AWOL all of Formal and well into the following afternoon.  Sansa, Jeyne, and Margaery were enjoying their customary Free Monday following the Formal by watching John Hughes films.

“Where in seven hells have you _been_ , Dany? I was worried about you,” Sansa said.

“Oh please,” Margaery rolled her eyes, “You were too busy screwing Sandor Clegane to notice that Dany vanished.”

“You _what_?!” Dany exclaimed, sitting next to Sansa on Jeyne’s floor.

“For the last time, Sandor and I didn’t have sex!  I said I wanted to take things slow so we just had a…half-naked…cuddle party…in my bed…” she could feel a deep blush blooming on her cheeks.

“Wow, Sansa, look at you breaking the rules and getting freaky!” Dany was impressed.  “I’m so proud, girl!”

“Yeah, yeah, innocent little me is growing up,” she brushed her friend’s words aside, “But seriously, Dany, where _were_ you?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Shut up!” Jeyne smacked her roommate with a pillow, “This squad doesn’t have secrets.”

Dany took a deep breath and looked around the room before speaking.

“So, as you may know, Mr. Lannister and I are pretty close.”

“Jaime or Tyrion?” Jeyne asked.

“Tyrion, duh,” Sansa elbowed her.

“Anyways,” Dany continued, “Over the past few months I’ve developed a little bit of a crush on him, and so I’d be extra flirty when I was around him and stuff.  A couple weeks ago, when he was helping me get Sansa and Sandor together, we were spying on—well, it’s a long, weird story but I accidentally kissed him.  And it was the most perfect kiss, guys, you have no idea.  Like, it was fucking mindblowing.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped. _Oh seven hells._

“Wait, Sans, let me finish before you say anything,” Dany placed a hand on her forearm, “Neither Mr. Lannister nor I had a date to Formal, so we jokingly said we’d keep each other company, which we did last night—we snuck away from the main room and got a little tipsy. Then, before you know it we were kissing and then he got us a room in he hotel and we went up there and—”

“No fucking way,” Margaery said.

“—And we had sex.” Dany wrinkled her face in slight embarrassment.

Jeyne’s face lit up and Margaery was smirking her crooked smirk.  They both seemed shocked but impressed.  Sansa, on the other hand, was outraged.  _Didn’t she know how much trouble she could get in?_

“Well, how was it?” Jeyne squealed, “Was he good?”

“I bet he was,” Margaery said knowingly.

“Guys, stop for a second!” Sansa exclaimed, “Dany, how could you be so _stupid_?”

“Oh, San, calm down,” Jeyne rolled her eyes.

“No, don’t tell me to calm down! Dany, did you even think about the consequences?  About what would happen to you if the school found out?  What would happen to _Tyrion_?”

“Of course I did! This isn’t something I went into lightly!”

“Oh, really?  Because from what you told us it sounds like you got drunk and fucked the first guy you saw.”

“This isn’t just some drunken one night stand!”

“Sure, Dany.”

“Sansa, I think I might actually be in love with him.”

Dany’s declaration was met by a chorus of delighted “awws” from Jeyne and Margaery.

“Are you guys being serious right now? Do you really not see the problem with this?”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Sansa, it’s romantic,” Jeyne insisted.

“You know what? No.  I’m leaving.  There’s too much stupidity in this room right now.”

“Sansa, please, don’t be like this,” Sansa could hear Dany calling after her as the door slammed behind her.

_Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one with a brain in this damn school._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review!


	81. Tyrion

“Tyrion Lannister, how could you be so stupid!?” Sansa Stark burst into his apartment, where he and Jaime were watching a _Friends_ marathon on the couch.

“What’d you do now, little brother?” Jaime asked, feigning chagrin.

“Nice to see you, too, Sansa,” Tyrion answered lightly, though there was a pit in his stomach.  _What if last night_ was _a mistake?_

“Why in all the seven hells would you have _sex_ with Dany?” she shrieked.

Jaime’s jaw dropped. “You told me you got drunk and rented a hotel room alone!”

“What I told you is true, I just…wasn’t alone.”

“Explain yourself!” Sansa demanded.

“Sansa, please calm down. Come sit.”

She sank into the armchair in a huff, and crossed her arms, and promptly burst into tears. “How could you, Tyrion! Didn’t you think about the consequences?”

“I know I said a few times to fuck a student, but I didn’t think you’d actually _do_ it!” Jaime was shocked.

“Sansa, listen to me,” he walked over to her and took her hands in his own.  “Daenerys and I like each other.  A lot. Maybe we love each other, hell if I know.  I know what we did seems stupid and reckless, and maybe it is, but we are going to figure this out. It’s going to be okay. Don’t take this out on Dany—if anything, blame me.”

“But Tyrion if anyone found out you’d be fired and maybe even arrested!  And I don’t—I can’t even imagine senior year without you as my advisor. I can’t do it alone, Tyrion.”

“And you won’t have to, Sansa, I promise.”

“Well, if you get fired because of this I-I’ll kick your ass,” she sniffed.

“As you have every right to.”

_So I guess if this ends badly, it’ll be two hearts broken instead of one.  I can’t let that happen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I semi-abandoned this story and started working on other things, but I felt really bad about it because I love writing this and I want to finish it. So I decided that I'm gonna try my best to wrap it up in the next 20 chapters or so. This was a short little Tyrion chapter that went along with the previous chapter, and after this I think I'm gonna do a time-jump so that it's somewhere during the end of March/early April in the schoolyear. Does that sound good? Let me know what you think of my plan in the comments!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stanason Prep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493229) by [ThegirlofFanfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThegirlofFanfics/pseuds/ThegirlofFanfics)




End file.
